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<pre>

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Deathworld, by Harry Harrison

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net


Title: Deathworld

Author: Harry Harrison

Illustrator: H. R. van Dongen

Release Date: March 17, 2009 [EBook #28346]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATHWORLD ***




Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Stephen Blundell
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net






</pre>


<div class="figc"><img src="images/001.png" width="700" height="355" alt="" title="" />

<div class="bk1"><h1>DEATHWORLD</h1></div>

<div class="bk2"><h2><b>BY HARRY HARRISON</b></h2>

<div class="bk3"><i><b>Some planet
in the galaxy must&mdash;by definition&mdash;be
the toughest, meanest, nastiest
of all. If Pyrrus wasn't it ... it was
an awfully good approximation!</b></i></div>

<div class="center"><small>Illustrated by van Dongen</small></div></div></div>

<div class="clr"><div class="figcap"><img src="images/002.png" width="45" height="45" alt="J" title="J" /></div>

<p class="firstp"><span class="dcap">ason</span> din<span class="dcap">Alt</span> sprawled
in soft luxury on the
couch, a large frosty
stein held limply in
one hand. His other
hand rested casually on a pillow. The
gun behind the pillow was within
easy reach of his fingers. In his line
of work he never took chances.</p></div>

<p>It was all highly suspicious. Jason
didn't know a soul on this planet.
Yet the card sent by service tube
from the hotel desk had read: <i>Kerk
Pyrrus would like to see Jason dinAlt</i>.
Blunt and to the point. He signaled
the desk to send the man up, then
lowered his fingers a bit until they
brushed the gun butt. The door slid
open and his visitor stepped through.</p>

<p><i>A retired wrestler.</i> That was Jason's
first thought. Kerk Pyrrus was
a gray-haired rock of a man. His
body seemingly chiseled out of flat
slabs of muscle. Then Jason saw the
gun strapped to the inside of the
other man's forearm, and he let his
fingers drop casually behind the
pillow.</p>

<p>"I'd appreciate it," Jason said, "if
you'd take off your gun while you're
in here." The other man stopped and
scowled down at the gun as if he was
seeing it for the first time.</p>

<p>"No, I never take it off." He seemed
mildly annoyed by the suggestion.</p>

<p>Jason had his fingers on his own
gun when he said, "I'm afraid I'll
have to insist. I always feel a little
uncomfortable around people who
wear guns." He kept talking to distract
attention while he pulled out his
gun. Fast and smooth.</p>

<p>He could have been moving in
slow motion for all the difference it
made. Kerk Pyrrus stood rock still
while the gun came out, while it
swung in his direction. Not until the
very last instant did he act. When he
did, the motion wasn't visible. First
his gun was in the arm holster&mdash;then
it was aimed between Jason's eyes.
It was an ugly, heavy weapon with a
pitted front orifice that showed plenty
of use.</p>

<p>And Jason knew if he swung his
own weapon up a fraction of an inch
more he would be dead. He dropped
his arm carefully and Kerk flipped
his own gun back in the holster with
the same ease he had drawn it.</p>

<p>"Now," the stranger said, "if
we're through playing, let's get down
to business. I have a proposition for
you."</p>

<p>Jason downed a large mouthful
from the mug and bridled his temper.
He was fast with a gun&mdash;his life had
depended on it more than once&mdash;and
this was the first time he had been
outdrawn. It was the offhand, unimportant
manner it had been done that
irritated him.</p>

<p>"I'm not prepared to do business,"
he said acidly. "I've come to Cassylia
for a vacation, get away from work."</p>

<p>"Let's not fool each other, dinAlt,"
Kerk said impatiently. "You've never
worked at an honest job in your entire
life. You're a professional gambler
and that's why I'm here to see
you."</p>

<p>Jason forced down his anger and
threw the gun to the other end of the
couch so he wouldn't be tempted to
commit suicide. He <i>had</i> hoped no
one knew him on Cassylia and was
looking forward to a big kill at the
Casino. He would worry about that
later. This weight-lifter type seemed
to know all the answers. Let him plot
the course for a while and see where
it led.</p>

<p>"All right, what do you want?"</p>

<hr />

<p>Kerk dropped into a chair that
creaked ominously under his weight,
and dug an envelope out of one pocket.
He flipped through it quickly and
dropped a handful of gleaming Galactic
Exchange notes onto the table.
Jason glanced at them&mdash;then sat up
suddenly.</p>

<p>"What are they&mdash;forgeries?" he
asked, holding one up to the light.</p>

<p>"They're real enough," Kerk told
him, "I picked them up at the bank.
Exactly twenty-seven bills&mdash;or twenty-seven
million credits. I want you to
use them as a bankroll when you go
to the Casino tonight. Gamble with
them and win."</p>

<p>They looked real enough&mdash;and
they could be checked. Jason fingered
them thoughtfully while he examined
the other man.</p>

<p>"I don't know what you have in
mind," he said. "But you realize I
can't make any guarantees. I gamble&mdash;but
I don't always win ..."</p>

<p>"You gamble&mdash;and you win when
you want to," Kerk said grimly. "We
looked into that quite carefully before
I came to you."</p>

<p>"If you mean to say that I cheat&mdash;"
Carefully, Jason grabbed his temper
again and held it down. There was
no future in getting annoyed.</p>

<p>Kerk continued in the same level
voice, ignoring Jason's growing anger.
"Maybe you don't call it cheating,
frankly I don't care. As far as
I'm concerned you could have your
suit lined with aces and electromagnets
in your boots. As long as you
<i>won</i>. I'm not here to discuss moral
points with you. I said I had a proposition.</p>

<p>"We have worked hard for that
money&mdash;but it still isn't enough. To
be precise, we need three billion credits.
The only way to get that sum is
by gambling&mdash;with these twenty-seven
million as bankroll."</p>

<p>"And what do I get out of it?"
Jason asked the question coolly, as
if any bit of the fantastic proposition
made sense.</p>

<p>"Everything above the three billion
you can keep, that should be fair
enough. You're not risking your own
money, but you stand to make enough
to keep you for life if you win."</p>

<p>"And if I lose&mdash;?"</p>

<p>Kerk thought for a moment, not
liking the taste of the idea. "Yes&mdash;there
is the chance you might lose,
I hadn't thought about that."</p>

<p>He reached a decision. "If you
lose&mdash;well I suppose that is just a
risk we will have to take. Though
I think I would kill you then. The
ones who died to get the twenty-seven
million deserve at least that."
He said it quietly, without malice,
and it was more of a promise than
a threat.</p>

<p>Stamping to his feet Jason refilled
his stein and offered one to Kerk who
took it with a nod of thanks. He
paced back and forth, unable to sit.
The whole proposition made him
angry&mdash;yet at the same time had a
fatal fascination. He was a gambler
and this talk was like the taste of
drugs to an addict.</p>

<p>Stopping suddenly, he realized that
his mind had been made up for some
time. Win or lose&mdash;live or die&mdash;how
could he say no to the chance to gamble
with money like that! He turned
suddenly and jabbed his finger at the
big man in the chair.</p>

<p>"I'll do it&mdash;you probably knew I
would from the time you came in
here. There are some terms of my
own, though. I want to know who
you are, and who <i>they</i> are you keep
talking about. And where did the
money come from. Is it stolen?"</p>

<p>Kerk drained his own stein and
pushed it away from him.</p>

<p>"Stolen money? No, quite the opposite.
Two years' work mining and
refining ore to get it. It was mined
on Pyrrus and sold here on Cassylia.
You can check on that very easily.
I sold it. I'm the Pyrric ambassador
to this planet." He smiled at the
thought. "Not that that means much,
I'm ambassador to at least six other
planets as well. Comes in handy
when you want to do business."</p>

<p>Jason looked at the muscular man
with his gray hair and worn, military-cut
clothes, and decided not to laugh.
You heard of strange things out in
the frontier planets and every word
could be true. He had never heard
of Pyrrus either, though that didn't
mean anything. There were over thirty-thousand
known planets in the inhabited
universe.</p>

<p>"I'll check on what you have told
me," Jason said. "If it's true, we can
do business. Call me tomorrow&mdash;"</p>

<p>"No," Kerk said. "The money has
to be won tonight. I've already issued
a check for this twenty-seven million,
it will bounce as high as the Pleiades
unless we deposit the money in the
morning, so that's our time limit."</p>

<p>With each moment the whole affair
became more fantastic&mdash;and more
intriguing for Jason. He looked at
his watch. There was still enough
time to find out if Kerk was lying or
not.</p>

<p>"All right, we'll do it tonight," he
said. "Only I'll have to have one of
those bills to check."</p>

<p>Kerk stood up to go. "Take them
all, I won't be seeing you again until
after you've won. I'll be at the Casino
of course, but don't recognize me. It
would be much better if they didn't
know where your money was coming
from or how much you had."</p>

<p>Then he was gone, after a bone-crushing
handclasp that closed on
Jason's hand like vise jaws. Jason was
alone with the money. Fanning the
bills out like a hand of cards he
stared at their sepia and gold faces,
trying to get the reality through his
head. Twenty-seven million credits.
What was to stop him from just walking
out the door with them and vanishing.
Nothing really, except his own
sense of honor.</p>

<p>Kerk Pyrrus, the man with the
same last name as the planet he came
from, was the universe's biggest fool.
Or he knew just what he was doing.
From the way the interview had gone
the latter seemed the better bet.</p>

<p>"He <i>knows</i> I would much rather
gamble with the money than steal it,"
he said wryly.</p>

<p>Slipping a small gun into his waistband
holster and pocketing the money
he went out.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>II.</h2>

<p>The robot teller at the bank just
pinged with electronic shock when he
presented one of the bills and flashed
a panel that directed him to see Vice
President Wain. Wain was a smooth
customer who bugged his eyes and
lost some of his tan when he saw the
sheaf of bills.</p>

<p>"You ... wish to deposit these
with us?" he asked while his fingers
unconsciously stroked them.</p>

<p>"Not today," Jason said. "They
were paid to me as a debt. Would you
please check that they are authentic
and change them? I'd like five hundred
thousand credit notes."</p>

<p>Both of his inner chest pockets
were packed tight when he left the
bank. The bills were good and he felt
like a walking mint. This was the first
time in his entire life that carrying
a large sum of money made him uncomfortable.
Waving to a passing
helicab he went directly to the Casino,
where he knew he would be safe&mdash;for
a while.</p>

<p>Cassylia Casino was the playspot
of the nearby cluster of star systems.
It was the first time Jason had seen
it, though he knew its type well. He
had spent most of his adult life in
casinos like this on other worlds. The
decor differed but they were always
the same. Gambling and socialities in
public&mdash;and behind the scenes all the
private vice you could afford. Theoretically
no-limit games, but that was
true only up to a certain point. When
the house was really hurt the honest
games stopped being square and the
big winner had to watch his step very
carefully. These were the odds Jason
dinAlt had played against countless
times before. He was wary but not
very concerned.</p>

<p>The dining room was almost empty
and the major-domo quickly rushed to
the side of the relaxed stranger in
the richly cut clothes. Jason was lean
and dark, looking more like the bored
scion of some rich family than a professional
gambler. This appearance
was important and he cultivated it.
The cuisine looked good and the cellar
turned out to be wonderful. He
had a professional talk with the sommelier
while waiting for the soup,
then settled down to enjoy his meal.</p>

<p>He ate leisurely and the large dining
room was filled before he was
through. Watching the entertainment
over a long cigar killed some more
time. When he finally went to the
gaming rooms they were filled and
active.</p>

<p>Moving slowly around the room he
dropped a few thousand credits. He
scarcely noticed how he played, giving
more attention to the feel of the
games. The play all seemed honest
and none of the equipment was rigged.
That could be changed very
quickly, he realized. Usually it wasn't
necessary, house percentage was
enough to assure a profit.</p>

<p>Once he saw Kerk out of the corner
of his eye but he paid him no
attention. The ambassador was losing
small sums steadily at seven-and-silver
and seemed to be impatient. Probably
waiting for Jason to begin playing
seriously. He smiled and strolled on
slowly.</p>

<p>Jason settled on the dice table as
he usually did. It was the surest way
to make small winnings. <i>And if I
feel it tonight I can clean this casino
out!</i> That was his secret, the power
that won for him steadily&mdash;and every
once in a while enabled him to make
a killing and move on quickly before
the hired thugs came to get the money
back.</p>

<hr />

<p>The dice reached him and he threw
an eight the hard way. Betting was
light and he didn't push himself, just
kept away from the sevens. He made
the point and passed a natural. Then
he crapped out and the dice moved
on.</p>

<p>Sitting there, making small automatic
bets while the dice went around
the table, he thought about the power.
<i>Funny, after all the years of work we
still don't know much about</i> psi. <i>They
can train people a bit, and improve
skills a bit&mdash;but that's all.</i></p>

<p>He was feeling strong tonight, he
knew that the money in his pocket
gave him the extra lift that sometimes
helped him break through. With his
eyes half closed he picked up the
dice&mdash;and let his mind gently caress
the pattern of sunken dots. Then they
shot out of his hand and he stared
at a seven.</p>

<p>It was there.</p>

<p>Stronger than he had felt it in
years. The stiff weight of those million-credit
notes had done it. The
world all around was sharp-cut clear
and the dice was completely in his
control. He knew to the tenth-credit
how much the other players had in
their wallets and was aware of the
cards in the hands of the players behind
him.</p>

<p>Slowly, carefully, he built up the
stakes.</p>

<p>There was no effort to the dice,
they rolled and sat up like trained
dogs. Jason took his time and concentrated
on the psychology of the players
and the stick man. It took almost
two hours to build his money on the
table to seven hundred thousand credits.
Then he caught the stick man
signaling they had a heavy winner.
He waited until the hard-eyed man
strolled over to watch the game, then
he smiled happily, bet all his table
stakes&mdash;and blew it on one roll of the
dice. The house man smiled happily,
the stick man relaxed&mdash;and out of the
corner of his eye Jason saw Kerk
turning a dark purple.</p>

<p>Sweating, pale, his hand trembling
ever so slightly, Jason opened the
front of his jacket and pulled out one
of the envelopes of new bills. Breaking
the seal with his finger he dropped
two of them on the table.</p>

<p>"Could we have a no-limit game?"
he asked, "I'd like to&mdash;win back
some of my money."</p>

<p>The stick man had trouble controlling
his smile now, he glanced across
at the house man who nodded a quick
<i>yes</i>. They had a sucker and they
meant to clean him. He had been
playing from his wallet all evening,
now he was cracking into a sealed
envelope to try for what he had lost.
A thick envelope too, and probably
not his money. Not that the house
cared in the least. To them money
had no loyalties. The play went on
with the Casino in a very relaxed
mood.</p>

<p>Which was just the way Jason
wanted it. He needed to get as deep
into them as he could before someone
realized <i>they</i> might be on the losing
end. The rough stuff would start and
he wanted to put it off as long as possible.
It would be hard to win smoothly
then&mdash;and his <i>psi</i> power might go
as quickly as it had come. That had
happened before.</p>

<p>He was playing against the house
now, the two other players were obvious
shills, and a crowd had jammed
solidly around to watch. After losing
and winning a bit he hit a streak of
naturals and his pile of gold chips
tottered higher and higher. There was
nearly a billion there, he estimated
roughly. The dice were still falling
true, though he was soaked with sweat
from the effort. Betting the entire
stack of chips he reached for the dice.
The stick man reached faster and
hooked them away.</p>

<p>"House calls for new dice," he said
flatly.</p>

<p>Jason straightened up and wiped
his hands, glad of the instant's relief.
This was the third time the house
had changed dice to try and break
his winning streak, it was their privilege.
The hard-eyed Casino man opened
his wallet as he had done before
and drew out a pair at random. Stripping
off their plastic cover he threw
them the length of the table to Jason.
They came up a natural seven and
Jason smiled.</p>

<p>When he scooped them up the
smile slowly faded. The dice
were transparent, finely made, evenly
weighted on all sides&mdash;and crooked.</p>

<p>The pigment on the dots of five
sides of each die was some heavy
metal compound, probably lead. The
sixth side was a ferrous compound.
They would roll true unless they hit a
magnetic field&mdash;that meant the entire
surface of the table could be magnetized.
He could never have spotted
the difference if he hadn't <i>looked</i> at
the dice with his mind. But what
could he do about it?</p>

<p>Shaking them slowly he glanced
quickly around the table. There was
what he needed. An ashtray with a
magnet in its base to hold it to the
metal edge of the table. Jason stopped
shaking the dice and looked at them
quizzically, then reached over and
grabbed the ashtray. He dropped the
base against his hand.</p>

<p>As he lifted the ashtray there was
a concerted gasp from all sides. The
dice were sticking there, upside down,
box cars showing.</p>

<p>"Are these what you call honest
dice?" he asked.</p>

<p>The man who had thrown out the
dice reached quickly for his hip pocket.
Jason was the only one who saw
what happened next. He was watching
that hand closely, his own fingers
near his gun butt. As the man dived
into his pocket a hand reached out of
the crowd behind him. From its
square-cut size it could have belonged
to only one person. The thick thumb
and index finger clamped swiftly
around the house man's wrist, then
they were gone. The man screamed
shrilly and held up his arm, his hand
dangling limp as a glove from the
broken wrist bones.</p>

<hr />

<p>With his flank well protected, Jason
could go on with the game. "The
old dice if you don't mind," he said
quietly.</p>

<p>Dazedly the stick man pushed them
over. Jason shook quickly and rolled.
Before they hit the table he realized
he couldn't control them&mdash;the transient
<i>psi</i> power had gone.</p>

<p>End over end they turned. And
faced up seven.</p>

<p>Counting the chips as they were
pushed over to him he added up a
bit under two billion credits. They
would be winning that much if he left
the game now&mdash;but it wasn't the three
billion that Kerk needed. Well, it
would have to be enough. As he
reached for the chips he caught
Kerk's eye across the table and the
other man shook his head in a steady
<i>no</i>.</p>

<p>"Let it ride," Jason said wearily,
"one more roll."</p>

<p>He breathed on the dice, polished
them on his cuff, and wondered how
he had ever gotten into this spot.
Billions riding on a pair of dice. That
was as much as the annual income of
some planets. The only reason there
<i>could</i> be stakes like that was because
the planetary government had a stake
in the Casino. He shook as long as
he could, reaching for the control that
wasn't there&mdash;then let fly.</p>

<p>Everything else had stopped in the
Casino and people were standing on
tables and chairs to watch. There
wasn't a sound from that large crowd.
The dice bounced back from the
board with a clatter loud in the silence
and tumbled over the cloth.</p>

<p>A five and a one. Six. He still had
to make his point. Scooping up the
dice Jason talked to them, mumbled
the ancient oaths that brought luck
and threw again.</p>

<p>It took five throws before he made
the six.</p>

<p>The crowd echoed his sigh and
their voices rose quickly. He wanted
to stop, take a deep breath, but he
knew he couldn't. Winning the money
was only part of the job&mdash;they now
had to get away with it. It had to
look casual. A waiter was passing
with a tray of drinks. Jason stopped
him and tucked a hundred-credit note
in his pocket.</p>

<p>"Drinks are on me," he shouted
while he pried the tray out of the
waiter's hands. Well-wishers cleared
the filled glasses away quickly and
Jason piled the chips onto the tray.
They more than loaded it, but Kerk
appeared that moment with a second
tray.</p>

<p>"I'll be glad to help you, sir, if you
will permit me," he said.</p>

<p>Jason looked at him, and laughed
permission. It was the first time he
had a clear look at Kerk in the
Casino. He was wearing loose, purple
evening pajamas over what must
have been a false stomach. The
sleeves were long and baggy so he
looked fat rather than muscular. It
was a simple but effective disguise.</p>

<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/003.png" width="350" height="221" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>Carefully carrying the loaded trays,
surrounded by a crowd of excited patrons,
they made their way to the
cashier's window. The manager himself
was there, wearing a sickly grin.
Even the grin faded when he counted
the chips.</p>

<p>"Could you come back in the morning,"
he said, "I'm afraid we don't
have that kind of money on hand."</p>

<p>"What's the matter," Kerk shouted,
"trying to get out of paying him?
You took <i>my</i> money easy enough
when I lost&mdash;it works both ways!"</p>

<p>The onlookers, always happy to see
the house lose, growled their disagreement.
Jason finished the matter
in a loud voice.</p>

<p>"I'll be reasonable, give me what
cash you have and I'll take a check
for the balance."</p>

<p>There was no way out. Under the
watchful eye of the gleeful crowd the
manager packed an envelope with
bills and wrote a check. Jason took a
quick glimpse at it, then stuffed it
into an inside pocket. With the envelope
under one arm he followed
Kerk towards the door.</p>

<p>Because of the onlookers there was
no trouble in the main room, but
just as they reached the side entrance
two men moved in, blocking the way.</p>

<p>"Just a moment&mdash;" one said. He
never finished the sentence. Kerk
walked into them without slowing
and they bounced away like tenpins.
Then Kerk and Jason were out of the
building and walking fast.</p>

<p>"Into the parking lot," Kerk said.
"I have a car there."</p>

<p>When they rounded the corner
there was a car bearing down on
them. Before Jason could get his gun
clear of the holster Kerk was in front
of him. His arm came up and his
big ugly gun burst through the cloth
of his sleeve and jumped into his
hand. A single shot killed the driver
and the car swerved and crashed. The
other two men in the car died coming
out of the door, their guns dropping
from their hands.</p>

<p>After that they had no trouble.
Kerk drove at top speed away from
the Casino, the torn sleeve of his
pajamas whipping in the breeze, giving
glimpses of the big gun back in
the holster.</p>

<p>"When you get the chance," Jason
said, "you'll have to show me how
that trick holster works."</p>

<p>"When we get the chance," Kerk
answered as he dived the car into the
city access tube.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>III.</h2>

<p>The building they stopped at was
one of the finer residences in Cassylia.
As they had driven, Jason counted
the money and separated his share.
Almost sixteen million credits. It still
didn't seem quite real. When they got
out in front of the building he gave
Kerk the rest.</p>

<p>"Here's your three billion, don't
think it was easy," he said.</p>

<p>"It could have been worse," was
his only answer.</p>

<p>The recorded voice scratched in the
speaker over the door.</p>

<p>"Sire Ellus has retired for the
night, would you please call again in
the morning. All appointments are
made in advan&mdash;"</p>

<p>The voice broke off as Kerk pushed
the door open. He did it almost effortlessly
with the flat of his hand.
As they went in Jason looked at the
remnants of torn and twisted metal
that hung in the lock and wondered
again about his companion.</p>

<p><i>Strength&mdash;more than physical
strength&mdash;he's like an elemental
force. I have the feeling that nothing
can stop him.</i></p>

<p>It made him angry&mdash;and at the
same time fascinated him. He didn't
want out of the deal until he found
out more about Kerk and his planet.
And "they" who had died for the
money he gambled.</p>

<p>Sire Ellus was old, balding and
angry, not at all used to having his
rest disturbed. His complaints stopped
suddenly when Kerk threw the money
down on the table.</p>

<p>"Is the ship being loaded yet,
Ellus? Here's the balance due." Ellus
only fumbled the bills for a moment
before he could answer Kerk's question.</p>

<p>"The ship&mdash;but, of course. We began
loading when you gave us the
deposit. You'll have to excuse my confusion,
this is a little irregular. We
never handle transactions of this size
in cash."</p>

<p>"That's the way I like to do business,"
Kerk answered him, "I've canceled
the deposit, this is the total sum.
Now how about a receipt."</p>

<p>Ellus had made out the receipt before
his senses returned. He held it
tightly while he looked uncomfortably
at the three billion spread out
before him.</p>

<p>"Wait&mdash;I can't take it now, you'll
have to return in the morning, to the
bank. In normal business fashion,"
Ellus decided firmly.</p>

<p>Kerk reached over and gently drew
the paper out of Ellus' hand.</p>

<p>"Thanks for the receipt," he said.
"I won't be here in the morning so
this will be satisfactory. And if you're
worried about the money I suggest
you get in touch with some of your
plant guards or private police. You'll
feel a lot safer."</p>

<p>When they left through the shattered
door Ellus was frantically dialing
numbers on his screen. Kerk answered
Jason's next question before
he could ask it.</p>

<p>"I imagine you would like to live
to spend that money in your pocket,
so I've booked two seats on an interplanetary
ship," he glanced at the
car clock. "It leaves in about two
hours so we have plenty of time. I'm
hungry, let's find a restaurant. I hope
you have nothing at the hotel worth
going back for. It would be a little
difficult."</p>

<p>"Nothing worth getting killed
for," Jason said. "Now where can we
go to eat&mdash;there are a few questions
I would like to ask you."</p>

<hr />

<p>They circled carefully down to the
transport levels until they were sure
they hadn't been followed. Kerk
nosed the car into a darkened loading
dock where they abandoned it.</p>

<p>"We can always get another car,"
he said, "and they probably have this
one spotted. Let's walk back to the
freightway, I saw a restaurant there
as we came by."</p>

<p>Dark and looming shapes of overland
freight carriers filled the parking
lot. They picked their way around
the man-high wheels and into the
hot and noisy restaurant. The drivers
and early morning workers took no
notice of them as they found a booth
in the back and dialed a meal.</p>

<p>Kerk chiseled a chunk of meat off
the slab in front of him and popped
it cheerfully into his mouth. "Ask
your questions," he said. "I'm feeling
much better already."</p>

<p>"What's in this ship you arranged
for tonight&mdash;what kind of a cargo
was I risking my neck for?"</p>

<p>"I thought you were risking your
neck for money," Kerk said dryly.
"But be assured it was in a good cause.
That cargo means the survival of a
world. Guns, ammunition, mines, explosives
and such."</p>

<p>Jason choked over a mouthful of
food. "Gun-running! What are you
doing, financing a private war? And
how can you talk about survival with
a lethal cargo like that? Don't try and
tell me they have a peaceful use. Who
are you killing?"</p>

<p>Most of the big man's humor had
vanished, he had that grim look Jason
knew well.</p>

<p>"Yes, peaceful would be the right
word. Because that is basically all we
want. Just to live in peace. And it is
not <i>who</i> are we killing&mdash;it is <i>what</i>
we are killing."</p>

<p>Jason pushed his plate away with
an angry gesture. "You're talking in
riddles," he said. "What you say has
no meaning."</p>

<p>"It has meaning enough," Kerk
told him, "but only on one planet in
the universe. Just how much do you
know about Pyrrus?"</p>

<p>"Absolutely nothing."</p>

<p>For a moment Kerk sat wrapped
in memory, scowling distantly. Then
he went on.</p>

<p>"Mankind doesn't belong on Pyrrus&mdash;yet
has been there for almost
three hundred years now. The age
expectancy of my people is sixteen
years. Of course most adults live beyond
that, but the high child mortality
brings the average down.</p>

<p>"It is everything that a humanoid
world should not be. The gravity is
nearly twice Earth normal. The temperature
can vary daily from arctic to
tropic. The climate&mdash;well you have to
experience it to believe it. Like nothing
you've seen anywhere else in the
galaxy."</p>

<p>"I'm frightened," Jason said dryly.
"What do you have&mdash;methane or
chlorine reactions? I've been down on
planets like that&mdash;"</p>

<hr />

<p>Kerk slammed his hand down hard
on the table. The dishes bounced and
the table legs creaked. "Laboratory
reactions!" he growled. "They look
great on a bench&mdash;but what happens
when you have a world filled with
those compounds? In an eye-wink of
galactic time all the violence is locked
up in nice, stable compounds. The atmosphere
may be poisonous for an
oxygen breather, but taken by itself
it's as harmless as weak beer.</p>

<p>"There is only one setup that is
pure poison as a planetary atmosphere.
Plenty of H<sub>2</sub>O, the most universal
solvent you can find, plus free
oxygen to work on&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Water and oxygen!" Jason broke
in. "You mean Earth&mdash;or a planet
like Cassylia here? That's preposterous."</p>

<p>"Not at all. Because you were born
in this kind of environment you accept
it as right and natural. You take
it for granted that metals corrode,
coastlines change, and storms interfere
with communication. These are
normal occurrences on oxygen-water
worlds. On Pyrrus these conditions are
carried to the nth degree.</p>

<p>"The planet has an axial tilt of almost
forty-two degrees, so there is a
tremendous change in temperature
from season to season. This is one
of the prime causes of a constantly
changing icecap. The weather generated
by this is spectacular to say the
least."</p>

<p>"If that's all," Jason said, "I don't
see why&mdash;"</p>

<p>"That's <i>not</i> all&mdash;it's barely the beginning.
The open seas perform the
dual destructive function of supplying
water vapor to keep the weather going,
and building up gigantic tides.
Pyrrus' two satellites, Samas and Bessos,
combine at times to pull the
oceans up into thirty meter tides. And
until you've seen one of these tides
lap over into an active volcano you've
seen nothing.</p>

<p>"Heavy elements are what brought
us to Pyrrus&mdash;and these same elements
keep the planet at a volcanic boil.
There have been at least thirteen super-novas
in the immediate stellar
neighborhood. Heavy elements can be
found on most of their planets of
course&mdash;as well as completely unbreathable
atmospheres. Long-term
mining and exploitation can't be done
by anything but a self-sustaining colony.
Which meant Pyrrus. Where the
radioactive elements are locked in the
planetary core, surrounded by a shell
of lighter ones. While this allows for
the atmosphere men need, it also
provides unceasing volcanic activity as
the molten plasma forces its way to
the surface."</p>

<p>For the first time Jason was silent.
Trying to imagine what life could be
like on a planet constantly at war with
itself.</p>

<p>"I've saved the best for last," Kerk
said with grim humor. "Now that you
have an idea of what the environment
is like&mdash;think of the kind of life
forms that would populate it. I doubt
if there is one off-world species that
would live a minute. Plants and animals
on Pyrrus are <i>tough</i>. They fight
the world and they fight each other.
Hundreds of thousands of years of
genetic weeding-out have produced
things that would give even an electronic
brain nightmares. Armor-plated,
poisonous, claw-tipped and
fanged-mouthed. That describes everything
that walks, flaps or just sits and
grows. Ever see a plant with teeth&mdash;that
bite? I don't think you want to.
You'd have to be on Pyrrus and that
means you would be dead within seconds
of leaving the ship. Even I'll
have to take a refresher course before
I'll be able to go outside the landing
buildings. The unending war for survival
keeps the life forms competing
and changing. Death is simple, but
the ways of dealing it too numerous
to list."</p>

<p>Unhappiness rode like a weight on
Kerk's broad shoulders. After long
moments of thought he moved visibly
to shake it off. Returning his attention
to his food and mopping the
gravy from his plate, he voiced part
of his feelings.</p>

<p>"I suppose there is no logical reason
why we should stay and fight this
endless war. Except that Pyrrus is our
home." The last piece of gravy-soaked
bread vanished and he waved the
empty fork at Jason.</p>

<p>"Be happy you're an off-worlder
and will never have to see it."</p>

<p>"That's where you're wrong." Jason
said as calmly as he could. "You
see, I'm going back with you."</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>IV.</h2>

<p>"Don't talk stupidly," Kerk said
as he punched for a duplicate order of
steak. "There are much simpler ways
of committing suicide. Don't you realize
that you're a millionaire now?
With what you have in your pocket
you can relax the rest of your life on
the pleasure planets. Pyrrus is a death
world, not a sightseeing spot for jaded
tourists. I cannot permit you to
return with me."</p>

<p>Gamblers who lose their tempers
don't last long. Jason was angry now.
Yet it showed only in a negative way.
In the lack of expression on his face
and the calmness of his voice.</p>

<p>"Don't tell me what I can or cannot
do, Kerk Pyrrus. You're a big
man with a fast gun&mdash;but that doesn't
make you my boss. All you can do is
stop me from going back on your
ship. But I can easily afford to get
there another way. And don't try to
tell me I want to go to Pyrrus for
sightseeing when you have no idea
of my real reasons."</p>

<p>Jason didn't even try to explain his
reasons, they were only half realized
and too personal. The more he traveled,
the more things looked the same
to him. The old, civilized planets
sank into a drab similarity. Frontier
worlds all had the crude sameness of
temporary camps in a forest. Not that
the galactic worlds bored him. It was
just that he had found their limitations&mdash;yet
had never found his own.
Until he met Kerk he had acknowledged
no man his superior, or even
his equal. This was more than egotism.
It was facing facts. Now he was
forced to face the fact that there was
a whole world of people who might
be superior to him. Jason could never
rest content until he had been there
and seen for himself. Even if he died
in the attempt.</p>

<p>None of this could be told to Kerk.
There were other reasons he would
understand better.</p>

<p>"You're not thinking ahead when
you prevent me from going to Pyrrus,"
Jason said. "I'll not mention any
moral debt you owe me for winning
that money you needed. But what
about the next time? If you needed
that much lethal goods once, you'll
probably need it again some day.
Wouldn't it be better to have me on
hand&mdash;old tried and true&mdash;than
dreaming up some new and possibly
unreliable scheme?"</p>

<p>Kerk chewed pensively on the second
serving of steak. "That makes
sense. And I must admit I hadn't
thought of it before. One failing we
Pyrrans have is a lack of interest in
the future. Staying alive day by day
is enough trouble. So we tend to face
emergencies as they arrive and let the
dim future take care of itself. You can
come. I hope you will still be alive
when we need you. As Pyrran ambassador
to a lot of places I officially
invite you to our planet. All expenses
paid. On the condition you obey completely
all our instructions regarding
your personal safety."</p>

<p>"Conditions accepted," Jason said.
And wondered why he was so cheerful
about signing his own death warrant.</p>

<p>Kerk was shoveling his way
through his third dessert when his
alarm watch gave a tiny hum. He
dropped his fork instantly and stood
up. "Time to go," he said. "We're on
schedule now." While Jason scrambled
to his feet, he jammed coins into
the meter until the <i>paid</i> light came
on. Then they were out the door and
walking fast.</p>

<p>Jason wasn't at all surprised when
they came on a public escalator just
behind the restaurant. He was beginning
to realize that since leaving the
Casino their every move had been
carefully planned and timed. Without
a doubt the alarm was out and the
entire planet being searched for them.
Yet so far they hadn't noticed the
slightest sign of pursuit. This wasn't
the first time Jason had to move just
one jump ahead of the authorities&mdash;but
it was the first time he had let
someone else lead him by the hand
while he did it. He had to smile at his
own automatic agreement. He had
been a loner for so many years that he
found a certain inverse pleasure in
following someone else.</p>

<p>"Hurry up," Kerk growled after a
quick glance at his watch. He set a
steady, killing pace up the escalator
steps. They went up five levels that
way&mdash;without seeing another person&mdash;before
Kerk relented and let the
escalator do the work.</p>

<p>Jason prided himself on keeping
in condition. But the sudden climb,
after the sleepless night, left him
panting heavily and soaked with
sweat. Kerk, cool of forehead and
breathing normally, didn't show the
slightest sign that he had been running.</p>

<p>They were at the second motor
level when Kerk stepped off the slowly
rising steps and waved Jason
after him. As they came through the
exit to the street a car pulled up to
the curb in front of them. Jason had
enough sense not to reach for his gun.
At the exact moment they reached the
car the driver opened the door and
stepped out. Kerk passed him a slip
of paper without saying a word and
slipped in behind the wheel. There
was just time for Jason to jump in
before the car pulled away. The entire
transfer had taken less than three
seconds.</p>

<p>There had been only a glimpse of
the driver in the dim light, but Jason
had recognized him. Of course he had
never seen the man before, but after
knowing Kerk he couldn't mistake
the compact strength of a native Pyrran.</p>

<p>"That was the receipt from Ellus
you gave him," Jason said.</p>

<p>"Of course. That takes care of the
ship and the cargo. They'll be off-planet
and safely away before the
casino check is traced to Ellus. So now
let's look after ourselves. I'll explain
the plan in detail so there will be no
slip-ups on your part. I'll go through
the whole thing once and if there are
any questions you'll ask them when
I'm finished."</p>

<p>The tones of command were so automatic
that Jason found himself listening
in quiet obedience. Though
one part of his mind wanted him to
smile at the quick assumption of his
incompetence.</p>

<p>Kerk swung the car into the steady
line of traffic heading out of the city
to the spaceport. He drove easily
while he talked.</p>

<p>"There is a search on in the city,
but we're well ahead of that. I'm sure
the Cassylians don't want to advertise
their bad sportsmanship so there
won't be anything as crude as a roadblock.
But the port will be crawling
with every agent they have. They
know once the money gets off-planet
it is gone forever. When we make a
break for it they will be sure we still
have the goods. So there will be no
trouble with the munition ship getting
clear."</p>

<p>Jason sounded a little shocked.
"You mean you're setting us up as
clay pigeons to cover the take-off of
the ship."</p>

<p>"You could put it that way. But
since we have to get off-planet anyway,
there is no harm in using our
escape as a smokescreen. Now shut up
until I've finished, like I told you.
One more interruption and I dump
you by the road."</p>

<hr />

<p>Jason was sure he would. He listened
intently&mdash;and quietly&mdash;as Kerk
repeated word for word what he had
said before, then continued.</p>

<p>"The official car gate will probably
be wide open with the traffic through
it. And a lot of the agents will be in
plain clothes. We might even get onto
the field without being recognized,
though I doubt it. It is of no importance.
We will drive through the gate
and to the take-off pad. The <i>Pride of
Darkhan</i>, for which we hold tickets,
will be sounding its two-minute siren
and unhooking the gangway. By the
time we get to our seats the ship will
take off."</p>

<p>"That's all very fine," Jason said.
"But what will the guards be doing
all this time?"</p>

<p>"Shooting at us and each other. We
will take advantage of the confusion
to get aboard."</p>

<p>This answer did nothing to settle
Jason's mind, but he let it slide for
the moment. "All right&mdash;say we <i>do</i>
get aboard. Why don't they just prevent
take-off until we have been
dragged out and stood against a
wall?"</p>

<p>Kerk spared him a contemptuous
glance before he returned his eyes to
the road. "I said the ship was the
<i>Pride of Darkhan</i>. If you had studied
this system at all, you would know
what that means. Cassylia and Darkhan
are sister planets and rivals in
every way. It has been less than two
centuries since they fought an intra-system
war that almost destroyed both
of them. Now they exist in an armed-to-the-teeth
neutrality that neither
dare violate. The moment we set foot
aboard the ship we are on Darkhan
territory. There is no extradition
agreement between the planets.
Cassylia may want us&mdash;but not badly
enough to start another war."</p>

<p>That was all the explanation there
was time for. Kerk swung the car out
of the rush of traffic and onto a bridge
marked <i>Official Cars Only</i>. Jason had
a feeling of nakedness as they rolled
under the harsh port lights towards
the guarded gate ahead.</p>

<p>It was closed.</p>

<p>Another car approached the gate
from the inside and Kerk slowed
their car to a crawl. One of the guards
talked to the driver of the car inside
the port, then waved to the gate attendant.
The barrier gate began to
swing inwards and Kerk jammed
down on the accelerator.</p>

<p>Everything happened at once. The
turbine howled, the spinning tires
screeched on the road and the car
crashed open the gate. Jason had a
vanishing glimpse of the open-mouthed
guards, then they were skidding
around the corner of a building. A
few shots popped after them, but
none came close.</p>

<p>Driving with one hand, Kerk
reached under the dash and pulled out
a gun that was the twin of the monster
strapped to his arm. "Use this
instead of your own," he said. "Rocket-propelled
explosive slugs. Make a
great bang. Don't bother shooting at
anyone&mdash;I'll take care of that. Just
stir up a little action and make them
keep their distance. Like this."</p>

<p>He fired a single, snap-shot out the
side window and passed the gun to
Jason almost before the slug hit. An
empty truck blew up with a roar, raining
pieces on the cars around and
sending their drivers fleeing in panic.</p>

<p>After that it was a nightmare ride
through a madhouse. Kerk drove with
an apparent contempt for violent
death. Other cars followed them and
were lost in wheel-raising turns. They
careened almost the full length of the
field, leaving a trail of smoking chaos.</p>

<p>Then the pursuit was all behind
them and the only thing ahead was
the slim spire of the <i>Pride of Darkhan</i>.</p>

<hr />

<p>The <i>Pride</i> was surrounded by a
strong wire fence as suited the begrudged
status of her planetary origin.
The gate was closed and guarded by
soldiers with leveled guns, waiting
for a shot at the approaching car.
Kerk made no attempt to come near
them. Instead he fed the last reserves
of power to the car and headed for
the fence. "Cover your face," he
shouted.</p>

<p>Jason put his arms in front of his
head just as they hit.</p>

<p>Torn metal screamed, the fence
buckled, wrapped itself around the
car, but did not break. Jason flew off
the seat and into the padded dash. By
the time Kerk had the warped door
open, he realized that the ride was
over. Kerk must have seen the spin
of his eyeballs because he didn't talk,
just pulled Jason out and threw him
onto the hood of the ruined car.</p>

<p>"Climb over the buckled wire and
make a run for the ship," he shouted.</p>

<p>If there was any doubt what he
meant, he set Jason an example of
fine roadwork. It was inconceivable
that someone of his bulk could run so
fast, yet he did. He moved more like
a charging tank than a man. Jason
shook the fog from his head and
worked up some speed himself. Nevertheless,
he was barely halfway to
the ship when Kerk hit the gangway.
It was already unhooked from the
ship, but the shocked attendants stopped
rolling it away as the big man
bounded up the steps.</p>

<div class="figleft"><img src="images/004.png" width="337" height="500" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>At the top he turned and fired at
the soldiers who were charging
through the open gate. They dropped,
crawled, and returned his fire. Very
few shot at Jason's running form.</p>

<p>The scene in front of Jason cranked
over in slow motion. Kerk standing
at the top of the ramp, coolly
returning the fire that splashed all
about. He could have found safety in
an instant through the open port behind
him. The only reason he stayed
there was to cover Jason.</p>

<p>"Thanks&mdash;" Jason managed to
gasp as he made the last few steps
up the gangway, jumped the gap and
collapsed inside the ship.</p>

<p>"You're perfectly welcome," Kerk
said as he joined him, waving his gun
to cool it off.</p>

<p>A grim-jawed ship's officer stood
back out of range of fire from the
ground and looked them both up and
down. "And just what is going on
here?" he growled.</p>

<p>Kerk tested the barrel with a wet
thumb, then let the gun slide back
into its holster. "We are law-abiding
citizens of a different system who
have committed no criminal acts. The
savages of Cassylia are too barbarous
for civilized company. Therefore we
are going to Darkhan&mdash;here are our
tickets&mdash;in whose sovereign territory I
believe we are at this moment." This
last was added for the benefit of the
Cassylian officer who had just stumbled
to the top of the gangway and
was raising his gun.</p>

<p>The soldier couldn't be blamed. He
saw these badly wanted criminals getting
away. Aboard a Darkhan ship as
well. Anger got the best of him and
he brought his gun up.</p>

<p>"Come out of there, you scum.
You're not escaping that easily. Come
out slow with your hands up or I'll
blast you&mdash;"</p>

<p>It was a frozen moment of time
that stretched and stretched without
breaking. The pistol covered Kerk
and Jason. Neither of them attempted
to reach for their own guns.</p>

<p>The gun twitched a bit as the ship's
officer moved, then steadied back on
the two men. The Darkhan spaceman
hadn't gone far, just a pace across the
lock. This was enough to bring him
next to a red box set flush with the
wall. With a single, swift gesture he
flipped up the cover and poised his
thumb over the button inside. When
he smiled his lips peeled back to show
all of his teeth. He had made up his
mind, and it was the arrogance of the
Cassylian officer that had been the
deciding factor.</p>

<p>"Fire a single shot into Darkhan
territory and I press this button," he
shouted. "And you know what this
button does&mdash;every one of your ships
has them as well. Commit a hostile
act against this ship and <i>someone</i> will
press a button. Every control rod will
be blown out of the ship's pile at that
instant and half your filthy city will
go up in the explosion." His smile
was chiseled on his face and there was
no doubt he would do what he said.
"Go ahead&mdash;fire. I think I would enjoy
pressing this."</p>

<p>The take-off siren was hooting now,
the <i>close lock</i> light blinking an angry
message from the bridge. Like four
actors in a grim drama they faced
each other an instant more.</p>

<p>Then the Cassylian officer, growling
with unvoicable frustrated anger,
turned and leaped back to the steps.</p>

<p>"All passengers board ship. Forty-five
seconds to take-off. Clear the
port." The ship's officer slammed shut
the cover of the box and locked it as
he talked. There was barely time to
make the acceleration couches before
the <i>Pride of Darkhan</i> cleared ground.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>V.</h2>

<p>Once the ship was in orbit the
captain sent for Jason and Kerk. Kerk
took the floor and was completely
frank about the previous night's activities.
The only fact of importance
he left out was Jason's background as
a professional gambler. He drew a
beautiful picture of two lucky strangers
whom the evil forces of Cassylia
wanted to deprive of their gambling
profits. All this fitted perfectly the
captain's preconceptions of Cassylia.
In the end he congratulated his officer
on the correctness of his actions and
began the preparation of a long report
to his government. He gave the
two men his best wishes as well as
the liberty of the ship.</p>

<p>It was a short trip. Jason barely had
time to catch up on his sleep before
they grounded on Darkhan. Being
without luggage they were the first
ones through customs. They left the
shed just in time to see another ship
landing in a distant pit. Kerk stopped
to watch it and Jason followed his
gaze. It was a gray, scarred ship. With
the stubby lines of a freighter&mdash;but
sporting as many guns as a cruiser.</p>

<p>"Yours, of course," Jason said.</p>

<p>Kerk nodded and started towards
the ship. One of the locks opened as
they came up but no one appeared.
Instead a remote-release folding ladder
rattled down to the ground. Kerk
swarmed up it and Jason followed
glumly. Somehow, he felt, this was
overdoing the no-frills-and-nonsense
attitude.</p>

<p>Jason was catching on to Pyrran
ways though. The reception aboard
ship for the ambassador was just what
he expected. Nothing. Kerk closed the
lock himself and they found couches
as the take-off horn sounded. The
main jets roared and acceleration
smashed down on Jason.</p>

<p>It didn't stop. Instead it grew
stronger, squeezing the air out of his
lungs and the sight from his eyes. He
screamed but couldn't hear his own
voice through the roaring in his ears.
Mercifully he blacked out.</p>

<p>When consciousness returned the
ship was at zero-G. Jason kept his
eyes closed and let the pain seep out
of his body. Kerk spoke suddenly, he
was standing next to the couch.</p>

<p>"My fault, Meta, I should have told
you we had a 1-G passenger aboard.
You might have eased up a bit on
your usual bone-breaking take-off."</p>

<p>"It doesn't seem to have harmed
him much&mdash;but what's he doing
here?"</p>

<p>Jason felt mild surprise that the
second voice was a girl's. But he
wasn't interested enough to go to the
trouble of opening his sore eyes.</p>

<p>"Going to Pyrrus. I tried to talk
him out of it, of course, but I couldn't
change his mind. It's a shame, too, I
would like to have done more for
him. He's the one who got the money
for us."</p>

<p>"Oh, that's awful," the girl said.
Jason wondered why it was <i>awful</i>. It
didn't make sense to his groggy mind.
"It would have been much better if
he stayed on Darkhan," the girl continued.
"He's very nice-looking. I
think it's a shame he has to die."</p>

<p>That was too much for Jason. He
pried one eye open, then the other.
The voice belonged to a girl about
twenty-one who was standing next to
the bed, gazing down at Jason. She
was beautiful.</p>

<p>Jason's eyes opened wider as he
realized she was <i>very</i> beautiful&mdash;with
the kind of beauty never found in
the civilized galaxy. The women he
had known all ran to pale skin, hollow
shoulders, gray faces covered with
tints and dyes. They were the product
of centuries of breeding weaknesses
back into the race, as the advance
of medicine kept alive more
and more non-survival types.</p>

<p>This girl was the direct opposite
in every way. She was the product of
survival on Pyrrus. The heavy gravity
that produced bulging muscles in men,
brought out firm strength in straplike
female muscles. She had the figure of
a goddess, tanned skin and perfectly
formed face. Her hair, which was cut
short, circled her head like a golden
crown. The only unfeminine thing
about her was the gun she wore in a
bulky forearm holster. When she saw
Jason's eyes open she smiled at him.
Her teeth were as even and as white
as he had expected.</p>

<p>"I'm Meta, pilot of this ship. And
you must be&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Jason dinAlt. That was a lousy
take-off, Meta."</p>

<p>"I'm really very sorry," she laughed.
"But being born on a two-G
planet does make one a little immune
to acceleration. I save fuel too, with
the synergy curve&mdash;"</p>

<p>Kerk gave a noncommittal grunt.
"Come along, Meta, we'll take a look
at the cargo. Some of the new stuff
will plug the gaps in the perimeter."</p>

<p>"Oh yes," she said, almost clapping
her hands with happiness. "I
read the specs, they're simply wonderful."</p>

<p><i>Like a schoolgirl with a new dress.
Or a box of candy. That's a great
attitude to have towards bombs and
flame-throwers.</i> Jason smiled wryly at
the thought as he groaned off the
couch. The two Pyrrans had gone and
he pulled himself painfully through
the door after them.</p>

<hr />

<p>It took him a long time to find his
way to the hold. The ship was big
and apparently empty of crew. Jason
finally found a man sleeping in one
of the brightly lit cabins. He recognized
him as the driver who had
turned the car over to them on Cassylia.
The man, who had been sleeping
soundly a moment before, opened
his eyes as soon as Jason drifted into
the room. He was wide awake.</p>

<p>"How do I get to the cargo hold?"
Jason asked.</p>

<p>The other told him, closed his eyes
and went instantly back to sleep before
Jason could even say thanks.</p>

<p>In the hold, Kerk and Meta had
opened some of the crates and were
chortling with joy over their lethal
contents. Meta, a pressure canister in
her arms, turned to Jason as he came
through the door.</p>

<p>"Just look at this," she said. "This
powder in here&mdash;why you can eat it
like dirt, with less harm. Yet it is
instantly deadly to all forms of vegetable
life ..." She stopped suddenly
as she realized Jason didn't share her
extreme pleasure. "I'm sorry. I forgot
for a moment there that you weren't
a Pyrran. So you don't really understand,
do you?"</p>

<p>Before he could answer, the PA
speaker called her name.</p>

<p>"Jump time," she said. "Come with
me to the bridge while I do the equations.
We can talk there. I know so
little about any place except Pyrrus
that I have a million questions to
ask."</p>

<p>Jason followed her to the bridge
where she relieved the duty officer
and began taking readings for the
jump-setting. She looked out of place
among the machines, a sturdy but supple
figure in a simple, one-piece shipsuit.
Yet there was no denying the
efficiency with which she went about
her job.</p>

<p>"Meta, aren't you a little young to
be the pilot of an interstellar ship?"</p>

<p>"Am I?" She thought for a second.
"I really don't know how old pilots
are supposed to be. I have been piloting
for about three years now and
I'm almost twenty. Is that younger
than usual?"</p>

<p>Jason opened his mouth&mdash;then
laughed. "I suppose that all depends
on what planet you're from. Some
places you would have trouble getting
licensed. But I'll bet things are different
on Pyrrus. By their standards you
must rank as an old lady."</p>

<p>"Now you're making a joke," Meta
said serenely as she fed a figure into
the calculator. "I've seen old ladies
on some planets. They are wrinkled
and have gray hair. I don't know how
old they are, I asked one but she
wouldn't tell me her age. But I'm sure
they must be older than anyone on
Pyrrus, no one looks like that there."</p>

<p>"I don't mean old that way," Jason
groped for the right word. "Not old&mdash;but
grown-up, mature. An adult."</p>

<p>"Everyone is grown-up," she answered.
"At least soon after they leave
the wards. And they do that when
they're six. My first child is grown-up,
and the second one would be, too,
only he's dead. So I <i>surely</i> must be."</p>

<p>That seemed to settle the question
for her, though Jason's thoughts
jumped with the alien concepts and
background, inherent behind her
words.</p>

<hr />

<p>Meta punched in the last setting,
and the course tape began to chunk
out of the case. She turned her attention
back to Jason. "I'm glad you're
aboard this trip, though I am sorry
you are going to Pyrrus. But we'll
have lots of time to talk. There are so
many things I want to find out about
other planets, and why people go
around acting the way they do. Not
at all like home where you <i>know</i> why
people are doing things all the time."
She frowned over the tape for a moment,
then turned her attention back
to Jason. "What is your home planet
like?"</p>

<p>One after another the usual lies he
told people came to his lips, and
were pushed away. Why bother lying
to a girl who really didn't care if you
were serf or noble? To her there were
only two kinds of people in the galaxy&mdash;Pyrrans,
and the rest. For the
first time since he had fled from Porgorstorsaand
he found himself telling
someone the truth of his origin.</p>

<p>"My home planet? Just about the
stuffiest, dullest, dead-end in the universe.
You can't believe the destructive
decay of a planet that is mainly
agrarian, caste-conscious and completely
satisfied with its own boring
existence. Not only is there no change&mdash;but
no one <i>wants</i> change. My father
was a farmer, so I should have
been a farmer too&mdash;if I had listened
to the advice of my betters. It was unthinkable,
as well as forbidden for me
to do anything else. And everything I
wanted to do was against the law.
I was fifteen before I learned to read&mdash;out
of a book stolen from a noble
school. After that there was no turning
back. By the time I stowed aboard
an off-world freighter at nineteen I
must have broken every law on the
planet. Happily. Leaving home for
me was just like getting out of
prison."</p>

<p>Meta shook her head at the
thought. "I just can't imagine a place
like that. But I'm sure I wouldn't like
it there."</p>

<p>"I'm sure you wouldn't," Jason
laughed. "So once I was in space,
with no law-abiding talents or skills,
I just wandered into one thing and
another. In this age of technology I
was completely out of place. Oh, I
suppose I could have done well in
some army, but I'm not so good at
taking orders. Whenever I gambled
I did well, so little by little I just
drifted into it. People are the same
everywhere, so I manage to make out
well wherever I end up."</p>

<p>"I know what you mean about people
being alike&mdash;but they are so <i>different</i>,"
she said. "I'm not being clear
at all, am I? What I mean is that at
home I know what people will do
and why they do it at the same time.
People on all the other planets do act
alike, as you said, yet I have very
much trouble understanding why. For
instance, I like to try the local food
when we set down on a planet, and
if there is time I always do. There are
bars and restaurants near every spaceport
so I go there. And I always have
trouble with the men. They want to
buy me drinks, hold my hand&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Well, a single girl in those port
joints has to expect a certain amount
of interest from the men."</p>

<p>"Oh, I know that," she said.
"What I don't understand is why they
don't listen when I tell them I am
not interested and to go away. They
just laugh and pull up a chair, usually.
But I have found that one thing works
wherever I am. I tell them if they
don't stop bothering me I'll break
their arm."</p>

<p>"Does that stop them?" Jason asked.</p>

<p>"No, of course not. But after I
break their arm they go away. And the
others don't bother me either. It's a
lot of fuss to go through and the
food is usually awful."</p>

<p>Jason didn't laugh. Particularly
when he realized that this girl <i>could</i>
break the arm of any spaceport thug
in the galaxy. She was a strange mixture
of naivete and strength, unlike
anyone he had ever met before. Once
again he realized that he <i>had</i> to visit
the planet that produced people like
her and Kerk.</p>

<p>"Tell me about Pyrrus," he asked.
"Why is it that you and Kerk assume
automatically that I will drop dead as
soon as I land? What is the planet
like?"</p>

<p>All the warmth was gone from her
face now. "I can't tell you. You will
have to see for yourself. I know that
much after visiting some of the other
worlds. Pyrrus is like nothing you
galaxy people have ever experienced.
You won't really believe it until it is
too late. Will you promise me something?"</p>

<p>"No," he answered. "At least not
until after I hear what it is and decide."</p>

<p>"Don't leave the ship when we
land. You <i>should</i> be safe enough
aboard, and I'll be flying a cargo out
within a few weeks."</p>

<p>"I'll promise nothing of the sort.
I'll leave when I want to leave." Jason
knew there was logic in her words,
but his back was up at her automatic
superiority.</p>

<p>Meta finished the jump settings
without another word. There was a
tension in the room that prevented
them both from talking.</p>

<p>It was the next shipday before he
saw her again, then it was completely
by accident. She was in the astrogation
dome when he entered, looking
up at the sparkling immensity of the
jump sky. For the first time he saw
her off duty, wearing something other
than a shipsuit. This was a loose, soft
robe that accentuated her beauty.</p>

<p>She smiled at him. "The stars are
so wonderful," she said. "Come
look." Jason came close to her and
with an unthinking, almost automatic
movement, put his arm around her.
Neither did she resent it, for she
covered his hand with hers. Then
they kissed and it was just the way
he knew it would be.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>VI.</h2>

<p>After that they were together constantly.
When Meta was on duty he
brought her meals to the bridge and
they talked. Jason learned little more
about her world since, by unspoken
agreement, they didn't discuss it. He
talked of the many planets he had
visited and the people he had known.
She was an appreciative listener and
the time went quickly by. They enjoyed
each other's company and it was
a wonderful trip.</p>

<p>Then it ended.</p>

<p>There were fourteen people aboard
the ship, yet Jason had never seen
more than two or three at a time.
There was a fixed rotation of duties
that they followed in the ship's operation.
When not on duty the Pyrrans
minded their own business in an intense
and self-sufficient manner. Only
when the ship came out of jump and
the PA barked <i>assembly</i> did they all
get together.</p>

<p>Kerk was giving orders for the
landing and questions were snapped
back and forth. It was all technical
and Jason didn't bother following it.
It was the attitude of the Pyrrans that
drew his attention. Their talk tended
to be faster now as were their motions.
They were like soldiers preparing
for battle.</p>

<p>Their sameness struck Jason for the
first time. Not that they looked alike
or did the same things. It was the <i>way</i>
they moved and reacted that caused
the striking similarity. They were like
great, stalking cats. Walking fast,
tense and ready to spring at all times,
their eyes never still for an instant.</p>

<p>Jason tried to talk to Meta after
the meeting, but she was almost a
stranger. She answered in monosyllables
and her eyes never met his, just
brushed over them and went on.
There was nothing he could really
say so she moved to leave. He started
to put his hand out to stop her&mdash;then
thought better of it. There would be
other times to talk.</p>

<p>Kerk was the only one who took
any notice of him&mdash;and then only to
order him to an acceleration couch.</p>

<p>Meta's landings were infinitely
worse than her take-offs. At least
when she landed on Pyrrus. There
were sudden acceleration surges in
every direction. At one point there
was a free fall that seemed endless.
There were loud thuds against the
hull that shook the framework of the
ship. It was more like a battle than a
landing, and Jason wondered how
much truth there was in that.</p>

<p>When the ship finally landed Jason
didn't even know it. The constant
2&nbsp;G's felt like deceleration. Only the
descending moan of the ship's engines
convinced him they were down. Unbuckling
the straps and sitting up was
an effort.</p>

<p>Two G's don't seem that bad&mdash;at
first. Walking required the same exertion
as would carrying a man of his
own weight on his shoulders. When
Jason lifted his arm to unlatch the
door it was heavy as two arms. He
shuffled slowly towards the main lock.</p>

<div class="figright"><img src="images/005.png" width="167" height="500" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>They were all there ahead of him,
two of the men rolling transparent
cylinders from a nearby room. From
their obvious weight and the way they
clanged when they bumped, Jason
knew they were made of transparent
metal. He couldn't conceive any possible
use for them. Empty cylinders
a meter in diameter, longer than a
man. One end solid, the other hinged
and sealed. It wasn't until Kerk spun
the sealing wheel and opened one of
them that their use became apparent.</p>

<p>"Get in," Kerk said. "When you're
locked inside you'll be carried out of
the ship."</p>

<p>"Thank you, no," Jason told him.
"I have no particular desire to make a
spectacular landing on your planet
sealed up like a packaged sausage."</p>

<p>"Don't be a fool," was Kerk's
snapped answer. "We're <i>all</i> going
out in these tubes. We've been away
too long to risk the surface without
reorientation."</p>

<hr />

<p>Jason did feel a little foolish as he
saw the others getting into tubes. He
picked the nearest one, slid into it feet
first, and pulled the lid closed. When
he tightened the wheel in the center,
it squeezed down against a flexible
seal. Within a minute the CO<sub>2</sub> content
in the closed cylinder went up
and an air regenerator at the bottom
hummed into life.</p>

<p>Kerk was the last one in. He checked
the seals on all the other tubes first,
then jabbed the air-lock override release.
As it started cycling he quickly
sealed himself in the remaining cylinder.
Both inner and outer locks ground
slowly open and dim light filtered in
through sheets of falling rain.</p>

<p>For Jason, the whole thing seemed
an anticlimax. All this preparation for
absolutely nothing. Long, impatient
minutes passed before a lift truck appeared
driven by a Pyrran. He loaded
the cylinders onto his truck like so
much dead cargo. Jason had the misfortune
to be buried at the bottom of
the pile so he could see absolutely
nothing when they drove outside.</p>

<p>It wasn't until the man-carrying
cylinders had been dumped in a
metal-walled room, that Jason saw
his first native Pyrran life.</p>

<p>The lift truck driver was swinging
a thick outer door shut when something
flew in through the entrance
and struck against the far wall. Jason's
eye was caught by the motion,
he looked to see what it was when it
dropped straight down towards his
face.</p>

<p>Forgetful of the metal cylinder
wall, he flinched away. The creature
struck the transparent metal and clung
to it. Jason had the perfect opportunity
to examine it in every detail.</p>

<p>It was almost too horrible to be
believable. As though it were a bearer
of death stripped to the very essentials.
A mouth that split the head in
two, rows of teeth, serrated and pointed.
Leathery, claw-tipped wings,
longer claws on the limbs that tore
at the metal wall.</p>

<p>Terror rose up in Jason as he saw
that the claws were tearing gouges
in the transparent metal. Wherever
the creature's saliva touched the metal
clouded and chipped under the assault
of the teeth.</p>

<p>Logic said these were just scratches
on the thick tube. They couldn't matter.
But blind, unreasoning fear sent
Jason curling away as far as he could.
Shrinking inside himself, seeking
escape.</p>

<p>Only when the flying creature began
dissolving did he realize the nature
of the room outside. Sprays of
steaming liquid came from all sides,
raining down until the cylinders were
covered. After one last clash of its
jaws, the Pyrran animal was washed
off and carried away. The liquid
drained away through the floor and a
second and third shower followed.</p>

<p>While the solutions were being
pumped away, Jason fought to bring
his emotions into line. He was surprised
at himself. No matter how
frightful the creature had been, he
couldn't understand the fear it could
generate through the wall of the sealed
tube. His reaction was all out of
proportion to the cause. Even with the
creature destroyed and washed out of
sight it took all of his will power to
steady his nerves and bring his breathing
back to normal.</p>

<hr />

<p>Meta walked by outside and he
realized the sterilization process was
finished. He opened his own tube and
climbed wearily out. Meta and the
others had gone by this time and only
a hawk-faced stranger remained, waiting
for him.</p>

<p>"I'm Brucco, in charge of the adaptation
clinic. Kerk told me who you
were. I'm sorry you're here. Now
come along, I want some blood samples."</p>

<p>"Now I feel right at home," Jason
said. "The old Pyrran hospitality."
Brucco only grunted and stamped out.
Jason followed him down a bare corridor
into a sterile lab.</p>

<p>The double gravity was tiring, a
constant drag on sore muscles. While
Brucco ran tests on the blood sample,
Jason rested. He had almost dozed off
into a painful sleep when Brucco returned
with a tray of bottles and
hypodermic needles.</p>

<p>"Amazing," he announced. "Not
an antibody in your serum that would
be of any use on this planet. I have
a batch of antigens here that will
make you sick as a beast for at least
a day. Take off your shirt."</p>

<p>"Have you done this often?" Jason
asked. "I mean juice up an outlander
so he can enjoy the pleasures of your
world?"</p>

<p>Brucco jammed in a needle that felt
like it grated on the bone. "Not often
at all. Last time was years ago. A
half-dozen researchers from some institute,
willing to pay well for the
chance to study the local life forms.
We didn't say no. Always need more
galaxy currency."</p>

<p>Jason was already beginning to feel
light-headed from the shots. "How
many of them lived?" he mumbled
vaguely.</p>

<p>"One. We got him off in time.
Made them pay in advance of
course."</p>

<p>At first Jason thought the Pyrran
was joking. Then he remembered they
had very little interest in humor of
any kind. If one-half of what Meta
and Kerk had told him was true, six
to one odds weren't bad at all.</p>

<p>There was a bed in the next room
and Brucco helped him to it. Jason
felt drugged and probably was. He
fell into a deep sleep and into the
dream.</p>

<p>Fear and hatred mixed in equal
parts and washed over him red hot.
If this was a dream, he never wanted
to sleep again. If it wasn't a dream,
he wanted to die. He tried to fight up
against it, but only sank in more
deeply. There was no beginning and
no end to the fear and no way to
escape.</p>

<p>When consciousness returned Jason
could remember no detail of the
nightmare. Just the fear remained. He
was soaked with sweat and ached in
every muscle. It must have been the
massive dose of shots, he finally decided,
that and the brutal gravity.
That didn't take the taste of fear out
of his mouth, though.</p>

<p>Brucco stuck his head in the door
then and looked Jason up and down.
"Thought you were dead," he said.
"Slept the clock around. Don't move,
I'll get something to pick you up."</p>

<p>The pickup was in the form of another
needle and a glassful of evil-looking
fluid. It settled his thirst, but
made him painfully aware of gnawing
hunger.</p>

<p>"Want to eat?" Brucco asked. "I'll
bet you do. I've speeded up your metabolism
so you'll build muscle faster.
Only way you'll ever beat the gravity.
Give you quite an appetite for a while
though."</p>

<p>Brucco ate at the same time and
Jason had a chance to ask some questions.
"When do I get a chance to
look around your fascinating planet?
So far this trip has been about as interesting
as a jail term."</p>

<p>"Relax and enjoy your food. Probably
be months before you're able to
go outside. If at all."</p>

<p>Jason felt his jaw hanging and
closed it with a snap. "Could you possibly
tell me why?"</p>

<p>"Of course. You will have to go
through the same training course that
our children take. It takes them six
years. Of course it's their first six
years of life. So you might think that
you, as an adult, could learn faster.
Then again they have the advantage
of heredity. All I can say is you'll go
outside these sealed buildings when
you're ready."</p>

<p>Brucco had finished eating while
he talked, and sat staring at Jason's
bare arms with growing disgust. "The
first thing we want to get you is a
gun," he said. "It gives me a sick
feeling to see someone without one."</p>

<p>Of course Brucco wore his own gun
continually, even within the sealed
buildings.</p>

<p>"Every gun is fitted to its owner
and would be useless on anyone else,"
Brucco said. "I'll show you why." He
led Jason to an armory jammed with
deadly weapons. "Put your arm in this
while I make the adjustments."</p>

<hr />

<p>It was a boxlike machine with a
pistol grip on the side. Jason clutched
the grip and rested his elbow on a
metal loop. Brucco fixed pointers that
touched his arm, then copied the results
from the meters. Reading the
figures from his list he selected various
components from bins and quickly
assembled a power holster and gun.
With the holster strapped to his forearm
and the gun in his hand, Jason
noticed for the first time they were
connected by a flexible cable. The gun
fitted his hand perfectly.</p>

<p>"This is the secret of the power
holster," Brucco said, tapping the flexible
cable. "It is perfectly loose while
you are using the weapon. But when
you want it returned to the holster&mdash;"
Brucco made an adjustment and the
cable became a stiff rod that whipped
the gun from Jason's hand and suspended
it in midair.</p>

<p>"Then the return." The rod-cable
whirred and snapped the gun back into
the holster. "The drawing action is
the opposite of this, of course."</p>

<p>"A great gadget," Jason said, "but
how <i>do</i> I draw? Do I whistle or something
for the gun to pop out?"</p>

<p>"No, it is not sonic control," Brucco
answered with a sober face. "It is
much more precise than that. Here,
take your left hand and grasp an
imaginary gun butt. Tense your trigger
finger. Do you notice the pattern of
the tendons in the wrist? Sensitive
actuators touch the tendons in your
right wrist. They ignore all patterns
except the one that says <i>hand ready to
receive gun</i>. After a time the mechanism
becomes completely automatic.
When you want the gun&mdash;it is in your
hand. When you don't&mdash;it is in the
holster."</p>

<p>Jason made grasping motions with
his right hand, crooked his index finger.
There was a sudden, smashing
pain against his hand and a loud roar.
The gun was in his hand&mdash;half the
fingers were numb&mdash;and smoke curled
up from the barrel.</p>

<p>"Of course there are only blank
charges in the gun until you learn
control. Guns are <i>always</i> loaded.
There is no safety. Notice the lack of
a trigger guard. That enables you to
bend your trigger finger a slight bit
more when drawing so the gun will
fire the instant it touches your hand."</p>

<p>It was without a doubt the most
murderous weapon Jason had ever
handled, as well as being the hardest
to manage. Working against the muscle-burning
ache of high gravity, he
fought to control the devilish device.
It had an infuriating way of vanishing
into the holster just as he was
about to pull the trigger. Even worse
was the tendency to leap out before
he was quite ready. The gun went to
the position where his hand should
be. If the fingers weren't correctly
placed, they were crashed aside. Jason
only stopped the practice when his
entire hand was one livid bruise.</p>

<p>Complete mastery would come with
time, but he could already understand
why the Pyrrans never removed their
guns. It would be like removing a
part of your own body. The movement
of gun from holster to hand
was too fast for him to detect. It was
certainly faster than the neural current
that shaped the hand into the
gun-holding position. For all apparent
purposes it was like having a
lightning bolt in your fingertip. Point
the finger and <i>blamm</i>, there's the
explosion.</p>

<hr />

<p>Brucco had left Jason to practice
alone. When his aching hand could
take no more, he stopped and headed
back towards his own quarters. Turning
a corner he had a quick glimpse
of a familiar figure going away from
him.</p>

<p>"Meta! Wait for a second&mdash;I want
to talk to you."</p>

<p>She turned impatiently as he shuffled
up, going as fast as he could in
the doubled gravity. Everything about
her seemed different from the girl he
had known on the ship. Heavy boots
came as high as her knees, her figure
was lost in bulky coveralls of some
metallic fabric. The trim waist was
bulged out by a belt of canisters. Her
very expression was coldly distant.</p>

<p>"I've missed you," he said. "I
hadn't realized you were in this building."
He reached for her hand but
she moved it out of his reach.</p>

<p>"What is it you want?" she asked.</p>

<p>"What is it I want!" he echoed
with barely concealed anger. "This is
Jason, remember me? We're friends.
It <i>is</i> allowed for friends to talk without
'wanting' anything."</p>

<p>"What happened on the ship has
nothing to do with what happens on
Pyrrus." She started forward impatiently
as she talked. "I have finished
my reconditioning and must return to
work. You'll be staying here in the
sealed buildings so I won't be seeing
you."</p>

<p>"Why don't you say 'with the rest
of the children'&mdash;that's what your
tone implies? And don't try walking
out, there are some things we have to
settle first&mdash;"</p>

<p>Jason made the mistake of putting
out his hand to stop her. He didn't
really know what happened next. One
instant he was standing&mdash;the next he
sprawled suddenly on the floor. His
shoulder was badly bruised, and Meta
had vanished down the corridor.</p>

<p>Limping back to his own room he
cursed women in general and Meta in
particular. Dropping onto his rock-hard
bed he tried to remember the
reasons that had brought him here in
the first place. And weighed them
against the perpetual torture of the
gravity, the fear-filled dreams it inspired,
the automatic contempt of
these people for any outsider. He
quickly checked the growing tendency
to feel sorry for himself. By Pyrran
standards he <i>was</i> soft and helpless.
If he wanted them to think any better
of him, he would have to change a
good deal.</p>

<p>He sank into a fatigue-drugged
sleep then, that was broken only by
the screaming fear of his dreams.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>VII.</h2>

<p>In the morning Jason awoke with
a bad headache and the feeling he
had never been to sleep. As he took
some of the carefully portioned stimulants
that Brucco had given him, he
wondered again about the combination
of factors that filled his sleep
with such horror.</p>

<p>"Eat quickly," Brucco told him
when they met in the dining room.
"I can no longer spare you time for
individual instruction. You will join
the regular classes and take the prescribed
courses. Only come to me if
there is some special problem that the
instructors or trainers can't handle."</p>

<p>The classes&mdash;as Jason should have
expected&mdash;were composed of stern-faced
little children. With their compact
bodies and no-nonsense mannerisms
they were recognizably Pyrran.
But they were still children enough to
consider it very funny to have an
adult in their classes. Jammed behind
one of the tiny desks, the red-faced
Jason did not think it was much of a
joke.</p>

<p>All resemblance to a normal school
ended with the physical form of the
classroom. For one thing, every child&mdash;no
matter how small&mdash;packed a
gun. And the courses were all involved
with survival. The only
possible grade in a curriculum like
this was one hundred per cent and
students stayed with a lesson until
they mastered it perfectly. No courses
were offered in the normal scholastic
subjects. Presumably these were studied
after the child graduated survival
school and could face the world alone.
Which was a logical and cold-hearted
way of looking at things. In fact, logical
and cold-hearted could describe
any Pyrran activity.</p>

<p>Most of the morning was spent on
the operation of one of the medikits
that strapped around the waist. This
was a poison analyzer that was pressed
over a puncture wound. If any
toxins were present, the antidote was
automatically injected on the site. Simple
in operation but incredibly complex
in construction. Since all Pyrrans
serviced their own equipment&mdash;you
could then only blame yourself if it
failed&mdash;they had to learn the construction
and repair of all the devices.
Jason did much better than the child
students, though the effort exhausted
him.</p>

<p>In the afternoon he had his first
experience with a training machine.
His instructor was a twelve-year-old
boy, whose cold voice didn't conceal
his contempt for the soft off-worlder.</p>

<p>"All the training machines are
physical duplicates of the real surface
of the planet, corrected constantly as
the life forms change. The only difference
between them is the varying
degree of deadliness. This first machine
you will use is of course the
one infants are put into&mdash;"</p>

<p>"You're too kind," Jason murmured.
"Your flattery overwhelms me."
The instructor continued, taking no
notice of the interruption.</p>

<p>"... Infants are put into as soon
as they can crawl. It is real in substance,
though completely deactivated."</p>

<hr />

<p>Training machine was the wrong
word, Jason realized as they entered
through the thick door. This was a
chunk of the outside world duplicated
in an immense chamber. It took very
little suspension of reality for him to
forget the painted ceiling and artificial
sun high above and imagine himself
outdoors at last. The scene <i>seemed</i>
peaceful enough. Though clouds
banking on the horizon threatened a
violent Pyrran storm.</p>

<p>"You must wander around and examine
things," the instructor told
Jason. "Whenever you touch something
with your hand, you will be told
about it. Like this&mdash;"</p>

<p>The boy bent over and pushed his
finger against a blade of the soft grass
that covered the ground. Immediately
a voice barked from hidden speakers.</p>

<p>"Poison grass. Boots to be worn at
all times."</p>

<p>Jason kneeled and examined the
grass. The blade was tipped with a
hard, shiny hook. He realized with a
start that every single blade of grass
was the same. The soft green lawn
was a carpet of death. As he straightened
up he glimpsed something under
a broad-leafed plant. A crouching,
scale-covered animal, whose tapered
head terminated in a long spike.</p>

<p>"What's <i>that</i> in the bottom of my
garden?" he asked. "You certainly
give the babies pleasant playmates."
Jason turned and realized he was talking
to the air, the instructor was gone.
He shrugged and petted the scaly
monstrosity.</p>

<p>"Horndevil," the impersonal voice
said from midair. "Clothing and shoes
no protection. Kill it."</p>

<p>A sharp <i>crack</i> shattered the silence
as Jason's gun went off. The horndevil
fell on its side, keyed to react
to the blank charge.</p>

<p>"Well ... I <i>am</i> learning," Jason
said, and the thought pleased him.
The words <i>kill it</i> had been used by
Brucco while teaching him to use the
gun. Their stimulus had reached an
unconscious level. He was aware of
wanting to shoot only after he had
heard the shot. His respect for Pyrran
training techniques went up.</p>

<p>Jason spent a thoroughly unpleasant
afternoon wandering in the child's
garden of horror. Death was everywhere.
While all the time the disembodied
voice gave him stern advice in
simple language. So he could do unto,
rather than being done in. He had
never realized that violent death could
come in so many repulsive forms.
<i>Everything</i> here was deadly to man&mdash;from
the smallest insect to the largest
plant.</p>

<p>Such singleness of purpose seemed
completely unnatural. Why was this
planet so alien to human life? He
made a mental note to ask Brucco.
Meanwhile he tried to find one life
form that wasn't out for his blood.
He didn't succeed. After a long search
he found the only thing that when
touched didn't elicit deadly advice.
This was a chunk of rock that projected
from a meadow of poison
grass. Jason sat on it with a friendly
feeling and pulled his feet up. An
oasis of peace. Some minutes passed
while he rested his gravity-weary
body.</p>

<p>"ROTFUNGUS&mdash;DO NOT
TOUCH!"</p>

<p>The voice blasted at twice its normal
volume and Jason leaped as if he
had been shot. The gun was in his
hand, nosing about for a target. Only
when he bent over and looked closely
at the rock where he had been sitting,
did he understand. There were flaky
gray patches that hadn't been there
when he sat down.</p>

<p>"Oh you tricky devils!" he shouted
at the machine. "How many kids have
you frightened off that rock after they
thought they had found a little
peace!" He resented the snide bit of
conditioning, but respected it at the
same time. Pyrrans learned very early
in life that there was no safety on this
planet&mdash;except that which they provided
for themselves.</p>

<p>While he was learning about Pyrrus
he was gaining new insight into the
Pyrrans as well.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>VIII.</h2>

<p>Days turned into weeks in the
school, cut off from the world outside.
Jason almost became proud of
his ability to deal death. He recognized
all the animals and plants in
the nursery room and had been promoted
to a trainer where the beasts
made sluggish charges at him. His
gun picked off the attackers with dull
regularity. The constant, daily classes
were beginning to bore him as well.</p>

<p>Though the gravity still dragged at
him, his muscles were making great
efforts to adjust. After the daily classes
he no longer collapsed immediately
into bed. Only the nightmares got
worse. He had finally mentioned them
to Brucco, who mixed up a sleeping
potion that took away most of their
effect. The dreams were still there,
but Jason was only vaguely aware of
them upon awakening.</p>

<p>By the time Jason had mastered all
the gadgetry that kept the Pyrrans
alive, he had graduated to a most realistic
trainer that was only a hair-breadth
away from the real thing. The
difference was just in quality. The insect
poisons caused swelling and pain
instead of instant death. Animals
could cause bruises and tear flesh, but
stopped short of ripping off limbs.
You couldn't get killed in this trainer,
but could certainly come very close
to it.</p>

<p>Jason wandered through this large
and rambling jungle with the rest of
the five-year-olds. There was something
a bit humorous, yet sad, about
their unchildlike grimness. Though
they still might laugh in their quarters,
they realized there was no laughing
outside. To them survival was
linked up with social acceptance and
desirability. In this way Pyrrus was a
simple black-and-white society. To
prove your value to yourself and your
world, you only had to stay alive. This
had great importance in racial survival,
but had very stultifying effects
on individual personality. Children
were turned into like-faced killers, always
on the alert to deal out death.</p>

<p>Some of the children graduated into
the outside world and others took
their places. Jason watched this process
for a while before he realized
that all of those from the original
group he had entered with were gone.
That same day he looked up the chief
of the adaptation center.</p>

<p>"Brucco," Jason asked, "how long
do you plan to keep me in this kindergarten
shooting gallery?"</p>

<p>"You're not being 'kept' here,"
Brucco told him in his usual irritated
tone. "You will be here until you
qualify for the outside."</p>

<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/006.png" width="350" height="275" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>"Which I have a funny feeling will
be never. I can now field strip and
reassemble every one of your blasted
gadgets in the dark. I am a dead shot
with this cannon. At this present moment,
if I had to, I could write a book
on the Complete Flora and Fauna of
Pyrrus, and How to Kill It. Perhaps
I don't do as well as my six-year-old
companions, but I have a hunch I
do about as good a job now as I
ever will. Is that true?"</p>

<p>Brucco squirmed with the effort to
be evasive, yet didn't succeed. "I
think, that is, you know you weren't
born here, and&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Come, come," Jason said with
glee, "a straight-faced old Pyrran like
you shouldn't try to lie to one of the
weaker races that specialize in that
sort of thing. It goes without saying
that I'll always be sluggish with this
gravity, as well as having other inborn
handicaps. I admit that. We're
not talking about that now. The question
is&mdash;will I improve with more
training, or have I reached a peak of
my own <i>development</i> now?"</p>

<p>Brucco sweated. "With the passage
of time there will be improvement of
course&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Sly devil!" Jason waggled a finger
at him. "Yes or no, now. Will I improve
<i>now</i> by more training <i>now</i>?"</p>

<p>"No," Brucco said, and still looked
troubled. Jason sized him up like a
poker hand.</p>

<p>"Now let's think about that. I won't
improve&mdash;yet I'm still stuck here.
That's no accident. So you must have
been ordered to keep me here. And
from what I have seen of this planet,
admittedly very little, I would say that
Kerk ordered you to keep me here. Is
that right?"</p>

<p>"He was only doing it for your
own sake," Brucco explained, "trying
to keep you alive."</p>

<p>"The truth is out," Jason said, "so
let us now forget about it. I didn't
come here to shoot robots with your
offspring. So please show me the
street door. Or is there a graduating
ceremony first? Speeches, handing out
school pins, sabers overhead&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Nothing like that," Brucco snapped.
"I don't see how a grown man
like you can talk such nonsense all
the time. There is none of that, of
course. Only some final work in the
partial survival chamber. That is a
compound that connects with the outside&mdash;really
is a part of the outside&mdash;except
the most violent life forms are
excluded. And even some of those
manage to find their way in once in
a while."</p>

<p>"When do I go?" Jason shot the
question.</p>

<p>"Tomorrow morning. Get a good
night's sleep first. You'll need it."</p>

<hr />

<p>There was one bit of ceremony
attendant with the graduation. When
Jason came into his office in the
morning, Brucco slid a heavy gun clip
across the table.</p>

<p>"These are live bullets," he said.
"I'm sure you'll be needing them.
After this your gun will always be
loaded."</p>

<p>They came up to a heavy air lock,
the only locked door Jason had seen
in the center. While Brucco unlocked
it and threw the bolts, a sober-faced
eight-year-old with a bandaged leg
limped up.</p>

<p>"This is Grif," Brucco said. "He
will stay with you, wherever you go,
from now on."</p>

<p>"My personal bodyguard?" Jason
asked, looking down at the stocky
child who barely reached his waist.</p>

<p>"You might call him that." Brucco
swung the door open. "Grif tangled
with a sawbird, so he won't be able
to do any real work for a while. You
yourself admitted that you will never
be able to equal a Pyrran, so you
should be glad of a little protection."</p>

<p>"Always a kind word, that's you,
Brucco," Jason said. He bent over
and shook hands with the boy. Even
the eight-year-olds had a bone-crushing
grip.</p>

<p>The two of them entered the lock
and Brucco swung the inner door shut
behind them. As soon as it was sealed
the outer door opened automatically.
It was only partly open when Grif's
gun blasted twice. Then they stepped
out onto the surface of Pyrrus, over
the smoking body of one of its animals.</p>

<p>Very symbolic, Jason thought.
He was also bothered by the realization
that he hadn't remembered to
look for something coming in. Then,
too, he couldn't even identify the
beast from its charred remains. He
glanced around, hoping he would be
able to fire first himself, next time.</p>

<p>This was an unfulfilled hope. The
few beasts that came their way were
always seen first by the boy. After an
hour of this, Jason was so irritated
that he blasted an evil-looking thorn
plant out of existence. He hoped that
Grif wouldn't look too closely at it.
Of course the boy did.</p>

<p>"That plant wasn't close. It is stupid
to waste good ammunition on a
plant," Grif said.</p>

<p>There was no real trouble during
the day. Jason ended by being bored,
though soaked by the frequent rainstorms.
If Grif was capable of carrying
on a conversation, he didn't show
it. All Jason's gambits failed. The
following day went the same way. On
the third day, Brucco appeared and
looked Jason carefully up and down.</p>

<p>"I don't like to say it, but I suppose
you are as ready to leave now
as you ever will be. Change the virus
filter noseplugs every day. Always
check boots for tears and metalcloth
suiting for rips. Medikit supplies renewed
once a week."</p>

<p>"And wipe my nose and wear my
galoshes. Anything else?" Jason
asked.</p>

<p>Brucco started to say something,
then changed his mind. "Nothing that
you shouldn't know well by now.
Keep alert. And ... good luck." He
followed up the words with a crushing
handshake that was totally unexpected.
As soon as the numbness left
Jason's hand, he and Grif went out
through the large entrance lock.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>IX.</h2>

<p>Real as they had been, the training
chambers had not prepared him for
the surface of Pyrrus. There was the
basic similarity of course. The feel of
the poison grass underfoot and the
erratic flight of a stingwing in the last
instant before Grif blasted it. But
these were scarcely noticeable in the
crash of the elements around him.</p>

<p>A heavy rain was falling, more like
a sheet of water than individual
drops. Gusts of wind tore at it, hurling
the deluge into his face. He wiped
his eyes clear and could barely make
out the conical forms of two volcanoes
on the horizon, vomiting out clouds
of smoke and flame. The reflection of
this inferno was a sullen redness on
the clouds that raced by in banks
above them.</p>

<p>There was a rattle on his hard hat
and something bounced off to splash
to the ground. He bent over and
picked up a hailstone as thick as his
thumb. A sudden flurry of hail hammered
painfully at his back and neck,
he straightened hurriedly.</p>

<p>As quickly as it started the storm
was over. The sun burned down, melting
the hailstones and sending curls
of steam up from the wet street. Jason
sweated inside his armored clothing.
Yet before they had gone a block it
was raining again and he shook with
chill.</p>

<p>Grif trudged steadily along, indifferent
to the weather or the volcanoes
that rumbled on the horizon and
shook the ground beneath their feet.
Jason tried to ignore his discomfort
and match the boy's pace.</p>

<p>The walk was a depressing one.
The heavy, squat buildings loomed
grayly through the rain, more than
half of them in ruins. They walked
on a pedestrian way in the middle of
the street. The occasional armored
trucks went by on both sides of them.
The midstreet sidewalk puzzled Jason
until Grif blasted something that hurtled
out of a ruined building towards
them. The central location gave them
some chance to see what was coming.
Suddenly Jason was very tired.</p>

<p>"Grif, this city of yours is sure
down at the heels. I hope the other
ones are in better shape."</p>

<p>"I don't know what you mean
talking about heels. But there are no
other cities. Some mining camps that
can't be located inside the perimeter.
But no other cities."</p>

<p>This surprised Jason. He had always
visualized the planet with more
than one city. There were a <i>lot</i> of
things he didn't know about Pyrrus,
he realized suddenly. All of his efforts
since landing had been taken up
with the survival studies. There were
a number of questions he wanted to
ask. But ask them of somebody other
than his grouchy eight-year-old bodyguard.
There was one person who
would be best equipped to tell him
what he wanted to know.</p>

<p>"Do you know Kerk?" he asked the
boy. "Apparently he's your ambassador
to a lot of places, but his last
name&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Sure, everybody knows Kerk. But
he's busy, you shouldn't see him."</p>

<p>Jason shook a finger at him.
"Minder of my body you may be. But
minder of my soul you are not. What
do you say I call the shots and you
go along to shoot the monsters?
O.K.?"</p>

<hr />

<p>They took shelter from a sudden
storm of fist-sized hailstones. Then,
with ill grace, Grif led the way to one
of the larger, central buildings. There
were more people here and some of
them even glanced at Jason for a
minute, before turning back to their
business. Jason dragged himself up
two flights of stairs before they reached
a door marked CO-ORDINATION
AND SUPPLY.</p>

<p>"Kerk in here?" Jason asked.</p>

<p>"Sure," the boy told him. "He's in
charge."</p>

<p>"Fine. Now you get a nice cold
drink, or your lunch, or something,
and meet me back here in a couple of
hours. I imagine Kerk can do as good
a job of looking after me as you can."</p>

<p>The boy stood doubtfully for a few
seconds, then turned away. Jason
wiped off some more sweat and pushed
through the door.</p>

<p>There were a handful of people
in the office beyond. None of them
looked up at Jason or asked his business.
Everything has a purpose on
Pyrrus. If he came there&mdash;he must
have had a good reason. No one
would ever think to ask him what he
wanted. Jason, used to the petty officialdom
of a thousand worlds, waited
for a few moments before he understood.
There was only one other
door. He shuffled over and opened it.</p>

<p>Kerk looked up from a desk
strewed about with papers and ledgers.
"I was wondering when you
would show up," he said.</p>

<p>"A lot sooner if you hadn't prevented
it," Jason told him as he
dropped wearily into a chair. "It finally
dawned on me that I could
spend the rest of my life in your
blood-thirsty nursery school if I
didn't do something about it. So here
I am."</p>

<p>"Ready to return to the 'civilized'
worlds, now that you've seen enough
of Pyrrus?"</p>

<p>"I am not," Jason said. "And I'm
getting very tired of everyone telling
me to leave. I'm beginning to think
that you and the rest of the Pyrrans
are trying to hide something."</p>

<p>Kerk smiled at the thought. "What
could we have to hide? I doubt if
any planet has as simple and one-directional
an existence as ours."</p>

<p>"If that's true, then you certainly
wouldn't mind answering a few direct
questions about Pyrrus?"</p>

<p>Kerk started to protest, then laughed.
"Well done. I should know better
by now than to argue with you.
What do you want to know?"</p>

<p>Jason tried to find a comfortable
position on the hard chair, then gave
up. "What's the population of your
planet?" he asked.</p>

<p>For a second Kerk hesitated, then
said, "Roughly thirty thousand. That
is not very much for a planet that has
been settled this long, but the reason
for that is obvious."</p>

<p>"All right, population thirty thousand,"
Jason said. "Now how about
surface control of your planet. I was
surprised to find out that this city
within its protective wall&mdash;the perimeter&mdash;is
the only one on the planet.
Let's not consider the mining camps,
since they are obviously just extensions
of the city. Would you say then,
that you people control more or less
of the planet's surface than you did
in the past?"</p>

<hr />

<p>Kerk picked up a length of steel
pipe from the desk, that he used as
a paperweight, and toyed with it as
he thought. The thick steel bent like
rubber at his touch, as he concentrated
on his answer.</p>

<p>"That's hard to say offhand. There
must be records of that sort of thing,
though I wouldn't know where to
find them. It depends on so many
factors&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Let's forget that for now then,"
Jason said. "I have another question
that's really more relevant. Wouldn't
you say that the population of Pyrrus
is declining steadily, year after year?"</p>

<p>There was a sharp <i>twang</i> as the
steel snapped in Kerk's fingers, the
pieces dropping to the floor. He stood,
over Jason, his hands extended towards
the smaller man, his face flushed
and angry.</p>

<p>"Don't ever say that," he roared.
"Don't let me ever hear you say that
again!"</p>

<p>Jason sat as quietly as he could,
talking slowly and picking out each
word with care. His life hung in the
balance.</p>

<p>"Don't get angry, Kerk. I meant
no harm. I'm on your side, remember?
I can talk to you because you've
seen much more of the universe than
the Pyrrans who have never left the
planet. You are used to discussing
things. You know that words are just
symbols. We can talk and know you
don't have to lose your temper over
mere words&mdash;"</p>

<p>Kerk slowly lowered his arms and
stepped away. Then he turned and
poured himself a glass of water from
a bottle on the desk. He kept his
back turned to Jason while he drank.</p>

<p>Very little of the sweat that Jason
wiped from his sopping face was
caused by the heat in the room.</p>

<p>"I'm ... sorry I lost my temper,"
Kerk said, dropping heavily into his
chair. "Doesn't usually happen. Been
working hard lately, must have got
my temper on edge." He made no
mention of what Jason had said.</p>

<p>"Happens to all of us," Jason told
him. "I won't begin to describe the
condition my nerves were in when
I hit this planet. I'm finally forced to
admit that everything you said about
Pyrrus is true. It is the most deadly
spot in the system. And only native-born
Pyrrans could possibly survive
here. I can manage to fumble along
a bit after my training, but I know
I would never stand a chance on my
own. You probably know I have an
eight-year-old as a bodyguard. Gives
a good idea of my real status
here."</p>

<p>Anger suppressed, Kerk was back
in control of himself now. His eyes
narrowed in thought. "Surprises me
to hear you say that. Never thought
I would hear you admit that anyone
could be better than you at anything.
Isn't that why you came here? To
prove that you were as good as any
native-born Pyrran?"</p>

<p>"Score one for your side," Jason
admitted. "I didn't think it showed
that much. And I'm glad to see your
mind isn't as muscle-bound as your
body. Yes, I'll admit that was probably
my main reason for coming, that
and curiosity."</p>

<p>Kerk was following his own train
of thoughts, and puzzled where they
were leading him. "You came here
to prove that you were as good as
any native-born Pyrran. Yet now you
admit that any eight-year-old can outdraw
you. That just doesn't stack up
with what I know about you. If you
give with one hand, you must be
taking back with the other. In what
way do you still feel your natural
superiority?"</p>

<p>Jason thought a long time before
answering.</p>

<p>"I'll tell you," he finally said. "But
don't snap my neck for it. I'm gambling
that your civilized mind can
control your reflexes. Because I have
to talk about things that are strictly
taboo on Pyrrus.</p>

<p>"In your people's eyes I'm a weakling
because I come from off-world.
Realize though, that this is also my
strength. I can see things that are
hidden from you by long association.
You know, the old business of not
being able to see the forest for the
trees in the way." Kerk nodded
agreement and Jason went on.</p>

<p>"To continue the analogy further,
I landed from an airship, and at first
all I <i>could</i> see was the forest. To me
certain facts are obvious. I think that
you people know them too, only you
keep your thoughts carefully repressed.
They are hidden thoughts that
are completely taboo. I am going to
say one of them out loud now and
hope you can control yourself well
enough to not kill me."</p>

<p>Kerk's great hands tightened on
the arms of his chair, the only sign
that he had heard. Jason talked quietly,
as smoothly and easily as a lancet
probing into a brain.</p>

<p>"Human beings are losing the war
on Pyrrus. There is no chance they
can win. They could leave for another
planet, but that wouldn't be
victory. Yet, if they stay and continue
this war, they only prolong a particularly
bloody form of racial suicide.
With each generation the population
drops. Until eventually the planet
will win."</p>

<p>One arm of Kerk's plastic and steel
chair tore loose under the crushing
grasp of his fingers. He didn't notice
it. The rest of his body was rock-still
and his eyes fixed on Jason.</p>

<p>Looking away from the fractured
chair, Jason sought for the right
words.</p>

<p>"This is not a real war, but a disastrous
treating of symptoms. Like
cutting off cancerous fingers one by
one. The only result can be ultimate
death. None of you seem to realize
that. All you see are the trees. It has
never occurred to you that you could
treat the <i>causes</i> of this war and end it
forever."</p>

<p>Kerk dropped the arm of the chair
clattering to the floor. He sat up,
astonished. "What the devil do you
mean? You sound like a grubber."</p>

<p>Jason didn't ask what a grubber
was&mdash;but he filed the name.</p>

<p>"Call me a Pyrran by adoption. I
want this planet to survive as much
as you do. I think this war can be
ended by finding the <i>causes</i>&mdash;and
changing them, whatever they are."</p>

<p>"You're talking nonsense," Kerk
said. "This is just an alien world
that must be battled. The causes are
self-obvious facts of existence."</p>

<p>"No, they're not," Jason insisted.
"Consider for a second. When you
are away for any length of time from
this planet, you must take a refresher
course. To see how things have
changed for the worse while you were
gone. Well, that's a linear progression.
If things get worse when you
extend into the future, then they
have to get better if you extend into
the past. It is also good theory&mdash;though
I don't know if the facts will
bear me out&mdash;to say that if you extend
it far enough into the past you
will reach a time when mankind and
Pyrrus were not at war with each
other."</p>

<p>Kerk was beyond speech now, only
capable of sitting and listening while
Jason drove home the blows of inescapable
logic.</p>

<p>"There is evidence to support this
theory. Even you will admit that I, if
I am no match for Pyrran life, am
surely well versed in it. And all
Pyrran flora and fauna I've seen
have one thing in common. They're
not functional. <i>None</i> of their immense
armory of weapons is used
against each other. Their toxins don't
seem to operate against Pyrran life.
They are good only for dispensing
death to Homo sapiens. And <i>that</i> is
a physical impossibility. In the three
hundred years that men have been on
this planet, the life forms couldn't
have naturally adapted in this manner."</p>

<p>"But they <i>have</i> done it!" Kerk
bellowed.</p>

<p>"You are so right," Jason told him
calmly. "And if they have done it
there must be some agency at work.
Operating how&mdash;I have no idea. But
something has caused the life on
Pyrrus to declare war, and I'd like to
find out what that something is.
What was the dominant life form
here when your ancestors landed?"</p>

<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/007.png" width="350" height="254" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>"I'm sure I wouldn't know," Kerk
said. "You're not suggesting, are you,
that there are sentient beings on Pyrrus
other than those of human descent?
Creatures who are organizing
the planet to battle us?"</p>

<p>"I'm not suggesting it&mdash;you are.
That means you're getting the idea.
I have no idea what caused this
change, but I would sure like to find
out. Then see if it can be changed
back. Nothing promised, of course.
You'll agree, though, that it is worth
investigating."</p>

<hr />

<p>Fist smacking into his palm, his
heavy footsteps shaking the building,
Kerk paced back and forth the length
of the room. He was at war with
himself. New ideas fought old beliefs.
It was so sudden&mdash;and so hard
not to believe.</p>

<p>Without asking permission Jason
helped himself to some chilled water
from the bottle, and sank back into
the chair, exhausted. Something
whizzed in through the open window,
tearing a hole in the protective
screen. Kerk blasted it without changing
stride, without even knowing he
had done it.</p>

<p>The decision didn't take long.
Geared to swift activity, the big
Pyrran found it impossible not to
decide quickly. The pacing stopped
and a finger stabbed at Jason.</p>

<p>"I don't say you have convinced
me, but I find it impossible to find a
ready answer to your arguments. So
until I do, we will have to operate
as if they are true. Now what do you
plan to do, what <i>can</i> you do?"</p>

<p>Jason ticked the points off on his
fingers. "One, I'll need a place to
live and work that is well protected.
So instead of spending my energies
on just remaining alive I can devote
some study to this project. Two, I
want someone to help me&mdash;and act
as a bodyguard at the same time.
And someone, please, with a little
more scope of interest than my present
watchdog. I would suggest Meta
for the job."</p>

<p>"Meta?" Kerk was surprised. "She
is a space pilot and defense-screen
operator, what good could she possibly
be on a project like this?"</p>

<p>"The most good possible. She has
had experience on other worlds and
can shift her point of view&mdash;at least
a bit. And she must know as much
about this planet as any other educated
adult and can answer any questions
I ask." Jason smiled. "In addition
to which she is an attractive girl,
whose company I enjoy."</p>

<p>Kerk grunted. "I was wondering
if you would get around to mentioning
that last reason. The others make
sense though, so I'm not going to
argue. I'll round up a replacement
for her and have Meta sent here.
There are plenty of sealed buildings
you can use."</p>

<p>After talking to one of the assistants
from the outer office, Kerk made
some calls on the screen. The correct
orders were quickly issued. Jason
watched it all with interest.</p>

<p>"Pardon me for asking," he finally
said. "But are you the dictator of this
planet? You just snap your fingers
and they all jump."</p>

<p>"I suppose it looks that way," Kerk
admitted. "But that is just an illusion.
No one is in complete charge
on Pyrrus, neither is there anything
resembling a democratic system. After
all, our total population is about the
size of an army division. Everyone
does the job they are best qualified
for. Various activities are separated
into departments with the most qualified
person in charge. I run Co-ordination
and Supply, which is about the
loosest category. We fill in the gaps
between departments and handle
procuring from off-planet."</p>

<hr />

<p>Meta came in then and talked to
Kerk. She completely ignored Jason's
presence. "I was relieved and sent
here," she said. "What is it? Change
in flight schedule?"</p>

<p>"You might call it that," Kerk
said. "As of now you are dismissed
from all your old assignments and
assigned to a new department: Investigation
and Research. That tired-looking
fellow there is your department
head."</p>

<p>"A sense of humor," Jason said.
"The only native-born one on Pyrrus.
Congratulations, there's hope for the
planet yet."</p>

<p>Meta glanced back and forth between
them. "I don't understand. I
can't believe it. I mean a new department&mdash;why?"</p>

<p>"I'm sorry," Kerk said. "I didn't
mean to be cruel. I thought perhaps
you might feel more at ease. What
I said was true. Jason has a way&mdash;or
may have a way&mdash;to be of immense
value to Pyrrus. Will you help him?"</p>

<p>Meta had her composure back. And
a little anger. "Do I have to? Is that
an order? You know I have work to
do. I'm sure you will realize it is more
important than something a person
from <i>off-planet</i> might imagine. He
can't really understand&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Yes. It's an order." The snap
was back in Kerk's voice. Meta
flushed at the tone.</p>

<p>"Perhaps I can explain," Jason
broke in. "After all the whole thing
is my idea. But first I would like your
co-operation. Will you take the clip
out of your gun and give it to Kerk?"</p>

<p>Meta looked frightened, but Kerk
nodded in solemn agreement. "Just
for a few minutes, Meta. I have my
gun so you will be safe here. I think
I know what Jason has in mind, and
from personal experience I'm afraid
he is right."</p>

<p>Reluctantly Meta passed over the
clip and cleared the charge in the
gun's chamber. Only then did Jason
explain.</p>

<p>"I have a theory about life on
Pyrrus, and I'm afraid I'll have to
shatter some illusions when I explain.
To begin with, the fact must be admitted
that your people are slowly
losing the war here and will eventually
be destroyed&mdash;"</p>

<p>Before he was half through the
sentence, Meta's gun was directed between
his eyes and she was wildly
snapping the trigger. There was only
hatred and revulsion in her expression.
Kerk took her by the shoulders
and sat her in his chair, before anything
worse happened. It took a while
before she could calm down enough
to listen to Jason's words. It is not
easy to have the carefully built-up
falsehoods of a lifetime shattered.
Only the fact that she had seen something
of other worlds enabled her
to listen at all.</p>

<p>The light of unreason was still in
her eyes when he had finished, telling
her the things he and Kerk had discussed.
She sat tensely, pushed forward
against Kerk's hands, as if they
were the only things that stopped her
from leaping at Jason.</p>

<p>"Maybe that is too much to assimilate
at one sitting," Jason said. "So
let's put it in simpler terms. I believe
we can find a reason for this unrelenting
hatred of humans. Perhaps we
don't smell right. Maybe I'll find an
essence of crushed Pyrran bugs that
will render us immune when we rub
it in. I don't know yet. But whatever
the results, we <i>must</i> make the investigation.
Kerk agrees with me on that."</p>

<p>Meta looked at Kerk and he nodded
agreement. Her shoulders slumped
in sudden defeat. She whispered
the words.</p>

<p>"I ... can't say I agree, or even
understand all that you said. But I'll
help you. If Kerk thinks that it is
the right thing."</p>

<p>"I do," he said. "Now, do you
want the clip back for your gun? Not
planning to take any more shots at
Jason?"</p>

<p>"That was foolish of me," she
said coldly while she reloaded the
gun. "I don't need a gun. If I had
to kill him, I could do it with my
bare hands."</p>

<p>"I love you, too," Jason smiled at
her. "Are you ready to go now?"</p>

<p>"Of course." She brushed a fluffy
curl of hair into place. "First we'll
find a place where you can stay. I'll
take care of that. After that the work
of the new department is up to you."</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>X.</h2>

<p>There were empty rooms in one
of the computer buildings. These
were completely sealed to keep stray
animal life out of the delicate machinery.
While Meta checked a bed-roll
out of stores, Jason painfully
dragged a desk, table and chairs in
from a nearby empty office. When
she returned with a pneumatic bed
he instantly dropped on it with a
grateful sigh. Her lip curled a bit at
his obvious weakness.</p>

<p>"Get used to the sight," he said.
"I intend to do as much of my work
as I can, while maintaining a horizontal
position. You will be my
strong right arm. And right now,
Right Arm, I wish you could scare
me up something to eat. I also intend
to do most of my eating in the previously
mentioned prone condition."</p>

<p>Snorting with disgust, Meta stamped
out. While she was gone, Jason
chewed the end of a stylus thoughtfully,
then made some careful notes.</p>

<p>After they had finished the almost-tasteless
meal he began the search.</p>

<p>"Meta, where can I find historical
records of Pyrrus?"</p>

<p>"I've never heard of any ... I
really don't know."</p>

<p>"But there has to be something&mdash;<i>somewhere</i>,"
he insisted. "Even if
your present-day culture devotes all
of its time and energies to survival,
you can be sure it wasn't always that
way. All the time it was developing,
people were keeping records, making
notes. Now where do we look? Do
you have a library here?"</p>

<p>"Of course," she said. "We have
an excellent technical library. But
I'm sure there wouldn't be any of <i>that</i>
sort of thing there."</p>

<p>Trying not to groan, Jason stood
up. "Let me be the judge of that.
Just lead the way."</p>

<hr />

<p>Operation of the library was completely
automatic. A projected index
gave the call number for any text
that had to be consulted. The tape
was delivered to the charge desk
thirty seconds after the number had
been punched. Returned tapes were
dropped through a hopper and refiled
automatically. The mechanism worked
smoothly.</p>

<p>"Wonderful," Jason said, pushing
away from the index. "A tribute to
technological ingenuity. Only it contains
nothing of any value to us. Just
reams of textbooks."</p>

<p>"What <i>else</i> should be in a library?"
Meta sounded sincerely
puzzled.</p>

<p>Jason started to explain, then
changed his mind. "Later we will
go into that," he said. "Much later.
Now we have to find a lead. Is it
possible that there are any tapes&mdash;or
even printed books&mdash;that aren't filed
through this machine?"</p>

<p>"It seems unlikely, but we could
ask Poli. He lives here somewhere
and is in charge of the library&mdash;filing
new books and tending the
machinery."</p>

<p>The single door into the rear of
the building was locked, and no
amount of pounding could rouse the
caretaker.</p>

<p>"If he's alive, this should do it,"
Jason said. He pressed the out-of-order
button on the control panel.
It had the desired affect. Within five
minutes the door opened and Poli
dragged himself through it.</p>

<p>Death usually came swiftly on
Pyrrus. If wounds slowed a man
down, the ever-ready forces of destruction
quickly finished the job.
Poli was the exception to this rule.
Whatever had attacked him originally
had done an efficient job. Most of
the lower part of his face was gone.
His left arm was curled and useless.
The damage to his body and legs had
left him with the bare capability to
stumble from one spot to the next.</p>

<p>Yet he still had one good arm as
well as his eyesight. He could work
in the library and relieve a fully fit
man. How long he had been dragging
the useless husk of a body
around the building, no one knew.
In spite of the pain that filled his
red-rimmed, moist eyes, he had
stayed alive. Growing old, older than
any other Pyrran as far as Jason had
seen. He tottered forward and turned
off the alarm that had called him.</p>

<p>When Jason started to explain the
old man took no notice. Only after
the librarian had rummaged a hearing
aid out of his clothes, did Jason
realize he was deaf as well. Jason
explained again what he searched for.
Poli nodded and printed his answer
on a tablet.</p>

<p><i>there are many old books&mdash;in the
storerooms below</i></p>

<p>Most of the building was taken
up by the robot filing and sorting
apparatus. They moved slowly
through the banks of machinery,
following the crippled librarian to a
barred door in the rear. He pointed
to it. While Jason and Meta fought
to open the age-incrusted bars, he
wrote another note on his tablet.</p>

<p><i>not opened for many years, rats</i></p>

<p>Jason's and Meta's guns appeared
reflexively in their hands as they read
the message. Jason finished opening
the door by himself. The two native
Pyrrans stood facing the opening gap.
It was well they did. Jason could
never have handled what came
through that door.</p>

<p>He didn't even open it for himself.
Their sounds at the door must
have attracted all the vermin in the
lower part of the building. Jason had
thrown the last bolt and started to
pull on the handle&mdash;when the door
was <i>pushed</i> open from the other side.</p>

<hr />

<p>Open the gateway to hell and see
what comes out. Meta and Poli stood
shoulder to shoulder firing into the
mass of loathsomeness that boiled
through the door. Jason jumped to
one side and picked off the occasional
animal that came his way. The
destruction seemed to go on forever.</p>

<p>Long minutes passed before the
last clawed beast made its death rush.
Meta and Poli waited expectantly for
more, they were happily excited by
this chance to deal destruction. Jason
felt a little sick after the silent ferocious
attack. A ferocity that the
Pyrrans reflected. He saw a scratch
on Meta's face where one of the
beasts had caught her. She seemed
oblivious to it.</p>

<p>Pulling out his medikit, Jason circled
the piled bodies. Something
stirred in their midst and a crashing
shot ploughed into it. Then he reached
the girl and pushed the analyzer
probes against the scratch. The machine
clicked and Meta jumped as the
antitoxin needle stabbed down. She
realized for the first time what Jason
was doing.</p>

<p>"Thank you," she said.</p>

<p>Poli had a powerful battery lamp
and, by unspoken agreement, Jason
carried it. Crippled though he was,
the old man was still a Pyrran when
it came to handling a gun. They
slowly made their way down the refuse-laden
stairs.</p>

<p>"What a stench," Jason grimaced.</p>

<p>At the foot of the stairs they looked
around. There <i>had</i> been books and
records there at one time. They had
been systematically chewed, eaten
and destroyed for decades.</p>

<p>"I like the care you take with your
old books," Jason said disgustedly.</p>

<p>"They could have been of no importance,"
Meta said coolly, "or they
would be filed correctly in the library
upstairs."</p>

<p>Jason wandered gloomily through
the rooms. Nothing remained of any
value. Fragments and scraps of writing
and printing. Never enough in
one spot to bother collecting. With
the toe of one armored boot, he
kicked angrily at a pile of debris,
ready to give up the search. There
was a glint of rusty metal under the
dirt.</p>

<p>"Hold this!" He gave the light to
Meta and began scratching aside
the rubble. A flat metal box with a
dial lock built into it, was revealed.</p>

<p>"Why that's a log box!" Meta
said, surprised.</p>

<p>"That's what I thought," Jason
said.</p>

<div class="figright" style="width: 334px;"><img src="images/008.png" width="334" height="500" alt="" title="" /></div>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XI.</h2>

<div class="figcap"><img src="images/009.png" width="45" height="45" alt="R" title="R" /></div>

<p class="firstp"><span class="dcap">esealing</span> the cellar,
they carried the box
back to Jason's new
office. Only after
spraying with decontaminant,
did they examine it closely.
Meta picked out engraved letters
on the lid.</p>

<p>"S. T. POLLUX VICTORY&mdash;that
must be the name of the spacer
this log came from. But I don't recognize
the class, or whatever it is
the initials <i>S. T.</i> stand for."</p>

<p>"Stellar Transport," Jason told
her, as he tried the lock mechanism.
"I've heard of them but I've never
seen one. They were built during the
last wave of galactic expansion.
Really nothing more than gigantic
metal containers, put together in
space. After they were loaded with
people, machinery and supplies, they
would be towed to whatever planetary
system had been chosen. These
same tugs and one-shot rockets
would brake the S. T.'s in for a landing.
Then leave them there. The hull
was a ready source of metal and the
colonists could start right in building
their new world. And they were <i>big</i>.
All of them held at least fifty thousand
people ..."</p>

<p>Only after he said it, did he realize
the significance of his words.
Meta's deadly stare drove it home.
There were now less people on Pyrrus
than had been in the original
settlement.</p>

<p>And human population, without
rigid birth controls, usually increased
geometrically. Jason dinAlt suddenly
remembered Meta's itchy trigger
finger.</p>

<p>"But we can't be sure how many
people were aboard this one," he said
hurriedly. "Or even if this is the log
of the ship that settled Pyrrus. Can
you find something to pry this open
with? The lock is corroded into a
single lump."</p>

<p>Meta took her anger out on the
box. Her fingers managed to force
a gap between lid and bottom. She
wrenched at it. Rusty metal screeched
and tore. The lid came off in her
hands and a heavy book thudded to
the table.</p>

<p>The cover legend destroyed all
doubt.</p>

<div class="bq"><p>LOG OF S. T. POLLUX VICTORY.
OUTWARD BOUND&mdash;SETANI
TO PYRRUS. 55,000
SETTLERS ABOARD.</p></div>

<p>Meta couldn't argue now. She
stood behind Jason with tight-clenched
fists and read over his
shoulder as he turned the brittle,
yellowed pages. He quickly skipped
through the opening part that covered
the sailing preparations and trip
out. Only when he had reached the
actual landing did he start reading
slowly. The impact of the ancient
words leaped out at him.</p>

<p>"Here it is," Jason shouted.
"Proof positive that we're on the
right trail. Even <i>you</i> will have to admit
that. Read it, right here."</p>

<div class="bq"><p><i>... Second day since the tugs left,
we are completely on our own now.
The settlers still haven't grown used
to this planet, though we have orientation
talks every night. As well as
the morale agents who I have working
twenty hours a day. I suppose I
really can't blame the people, they
all lived in the underways of Setani
and I doubt if they saw the sun once
a year. This planet has weather with
a vengeance, worse than anything
I've seen on a hundred other planets.
Was I wrong during the original
planning stages not to insist on settlers
from one of the agrarian
worlds? People who could handle the
outdoors.</i></p>

<p><i>These citified Setanians are
afraid to go out in the rain. But of
course they have adapted completely
to their native 1.5 gravity so the two
gee here doesn't bother them much.
That was the factor that decided us.
Anyway&mdash;too late now to do anything
about it. Or about the unending
cycle of rain, snow, hail, hurricanes
and such. Answer will be to
start the mines going, sell the metals
and build completely enclosed cities.</i></p>

<p><i>The only thing on this forsaken
planet that isn't actually against us
are the animals. A few large predators
at first, but the guards made
short work of them. The rest of the
wild life leaves us alone. Glad of
that! They have been fighting for
existence so long that I have never
seen a more deadly looking collection.
Even the little rodents no bigger
than a man's hand are armored
like tanks ...</i></p></div>

<p>"I don't believe a word of it,"
Meta broke in. "That can't be Pyrrus
he's writing about ..." Her
words died away as Jason wordlessly
pointed to the title on the cover.</p>

<p>He continued scanning the pages,
flipping them quickly. A sentence
caught his eye and he stopped. Jamming
his finger against the place, he
read aloud.</p>

<p>"'... And troubles keep piling up.
First Har Palo with his theory that
the vulcanism is so close to the surface
that the ground keeps warm and
the crops grow so well. Even if he
is right&mdash;what can we do? We must
be self-dependent if we intend to
survive. And now this other thing. It
seems that the forest fire drove a lot
of new species our way. Animals, insects
and even birds have attacked
the people. (Note for Har: check if
possible seasonal migration might explain
attacks.) There have been
fourteen deaths from wounds and
poisoning. We'll have to enforce the
rules for insect lotion at all times.
And I suppose build some kind of
perimeter defense to keep the larger
beasts out of the camp.'</p>

<p>"This is a beginning," Jason said.
"At least now we are aware of the
real nature of the battle we're engaged
in. It doesn't make Pyrrus any
easier to handle, or make the life
forms less dangerous, to know that
they were once better disposed towards
mankind. All this does is point
the way. Something took the peaceful
life forms, shook them up, and
turned this planet into one big deathtrap
for mankind. That <i>something</i> is
what I want to uncover."</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XII.</h2>

<p>Further reading of the log produced
no new evidence. There was a
good deal more information about
the early animal and plant life and
how deadly they were, as well as the
first defenses against them. Interesting
historically, but of no use whatsoever
in countering the menace. The
captain apparently never thought that
life forms were altering on Pyrrus,
believing instead that dangerous
beasts were being discovered. He
never lived to change his mind. The
last entry in the log, less than two
months after the first attack, was
very brief. And in a different handwriting.</p>

<div class="bq"><p><i>Captain Kurkowski died today, of
poisoning following an insect bite.
His death is greatly mourned.</i></p></div>

<p>The "why" of the planetary revulsion
had yet to be uncovered.</p>

<p>"Kerk must see this book," Jason
said. "He should have some idea of
the progress being made. Can we get
transportation&mdash;or do we walk to
city hall?"</p>

<p>"Walk, of course," Meta said.</p>

<p>"Then you bring the book. At
two G's I find it very hard to be a
gentleman and carry the packages."</p>

<p>They had just entered Kerk's outer
office when a shrill screaming burst
out of the phone-screen. It took Jason
a moment to realize that it was
a mechanical signal, not a human
voice.</p>

<p>"What is it?" he asked.</p>

<p>Kerk burst through the door and
headed for the street entrance. Everyone
else in the office was going the
same way. Meta looked confused,
leaning towards the door, then looking
back at Jason.</p>

<p>"What does it mean? Can't you
tell me?" He shook her arm.</p>

<p>"Sector alarm. A major breakthrough
of some kind at the perimeter.
Everyone but other perimeter
guards has to answer."</p>

<p>"Well, go then," he said. "Don't
worry about me. I'll be all right."</p>

<p>His words acted like a trigger release.
Meta's gun was in her hand
and she was gone before he had
finished speaking. Jason sat down
wearily in the deserted office.</p>

<p>The unnatural silence in the building
began to get on his nerves. He
shifted his chair over to the phone-screen
and switched it on to <i>receive</i>.
The screen exploded with color and
sound. At first Jason could make no
sense of it at all. Just a confused
jumble of faces and voices. It was a
multi-channel set designed for military
use. A number of images were
carried on the screen at one time,
rows of heads or hazy backgrounds
where the user had left the field of
view. Many of the heads were talking
at the same time and the babble of
their voices made no sense whatsoever.</p>

<p>After examining the controls and
making a few experiments, Jason
began to understand the operation.
Though all stations were on the
screen at all times, their audio channels
could be controlled. In that way
two, three or more stations could be
hooked together in a link-up. They
would be in round-robin communication
with each other, yet never out of
contact with the other stations.</p>

<p>Identification between voice and
sound was automatic. Whenever one
of the pictured images spoke, the
image would glow red. By trial and
error Jason brought in the audio for
the stations he wanted and tried to
follow the course of the attack.</p>

<p>Very quickly he realized this was
something out of the ordinary. In
some way, no one made it clear, a
section of the perimeter had been
broken through and emergency defenses
had to be thrown up to encapsulate
it. Kerk seemed to be in
charge, at least he was the only one
with an override transmitter. He used
it for general commands. The many,
tiny images faded and his face appeared
on top of them, filling the
entire screen.</p>

<p>"All perimeter stations send twenty-five
per cent of your complement
to Area Twelve."</p>

<p>The small images reappeared and
the babble increased, red lights flickering
from face to face.</p>

<p>"... Abandon the first floor, acid
bombs can't reach."</p>

<p>"If we hold we'll be cut off, but
salient is past us on the west flank.
Request support."</p>

<p>"DON'T MERVV ... IT'S USELESS!"</p>

<p>"... And the napalm tanks are
almost gone. Orders?"</p>

<p>"The truck is still there, get it to
the supply warehouse, you'll find replacements ..."</p>

<hr />

<p>Out of the welter of talk, only the
last two fragments made any sense.
Jason had noticed the signs below
when he came in. The first two floors
of the building below him were jammed
with military supplies. This was
his chance to get into the act.</p>

<p>Just sitting and watching was frustrating.
Particularly when it was a
desperate emergency. He didn't overvalue
his worth, but he was sure there
was always room for another gun.</p>

<p>By the time he had dragged himself
down to the street level a turbo-truck
had slammed to a stop in front
of the loading platform. Two Pyrrans
were rolling out drums of napalm
with reckless disregard for their
own safety. Jason didn't dare enter
that maelstrom of rolling metal. He
found he could be of use tugging the
heavy drums into position on the
truck while the others rolled them
up. They accepted his aid without
acknowledgment.</p>

<p>It was exhausting, sweaty work,
hauling the leaden drums into
place against the heavy gravity. After
a minute Jason worked by touch
through a red haze of hammering
blood. He realized the job was done
only when the truck suddenly leaped
forward and he was thrown to the
floor. He lay there, his chest heaving.
As the driver hurled the heavy vehicle
along, all Jason could do was
bounce around in the bottom. He
could see well enough, but was still
gasping for breath when they braked
at the fighting zone.</p>

<p>To Jason, it was a scene of incredible
confusion. Guns firing, flames,
men and women running on all sides.
The napalm drums were unloaded
without his help and the truck vanished
for more. Jason leaned against
a wall of a half-destroyed building
and tried to get his bearings. It was
impossible. There seemed to be a
great number of small animals: he
killed two that attacked him. Other
than that he couldn't determine the
nature of the battle.</p>

<p>A Pyrran, tan face white with pain
and exertion, stumbled up. His right
arm, wet with raw flesh and dripping
blood, hung limply at his side. It was
covered with freshly applied surgical
foam. He held his gun in his left
hand, a stump of control cable dangling
from it. Jason thought the man
was looking for medical aid. He
couldn't have been more wrong.</p>

<p>Clenching the gun in his teeth, the
Pyrran clutched a barrel of napalm
with his good hand and hurled it
over on its side. Then, with the gun
once more in his hand, he began to
roll the drum along the ground with
his feet. It was slow, cumbersome
work, but he was still in the fight.</p>

<p>Jason pushed through the hurrying
crowd and bent over the drum. "Let
me do it," he said. "You can cover
us both with your gun."</p>

<p>The man wiped the sweat from
his eyes with the back of his arm
and blinked at Jason. He seemed to
recognize him. When he smiled it
was a grimace of pain, empty of
humor. "Do that. I can still shoot.
Two half men&mdash;maybe we equal one
whole." Jason was laboring too hard
to even notice the insult.</p>

<hr />

<p>An explosion had blasted a raw pit
in the street ahead. Two people were
at the bottom, digging it even deeper
with shovels. The whole thing seemed
meaningless. Just as Jason and the
wounded man rolled up the drum
the diggers leaped out of the excavation
and began shooting down into
its depths. One of them turned, a
young girl, barely in her teens.</p>

<p>"Praise Perimeter!" she breathed.
"They found the napalm. One of the
new horrors is breaking through towards
Thirteen, we just found it."
Even as she talked she swiveled the
drum around, kicked the easy-off
plug, and began dumping the gelid
contents into the hole. When half of
it had gurgled down, she kicked the
drum itself in. Her companion pulled
a flare from his belt, lit it, and threw
it after the drum.</p>

<div class="figright" style="width: 161px;"><img src="images/010.png" width="161" height="500" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>"Back quick. They don't like
heat," he said.</p>

<p>This was putting it very mildly.
The napalm caught, tongues of flame
and roiling, greasy smoke climbed up
to the sky. Under Jason's feet the
earth shifted and moved. <i>Something</i>
black and long stirred in the heart
of the flame, then arched up into the
sky over their heads. In the midst
of the searing heat it still moved with
alien, jolting motions. It was immense,
at least two meters thick and
with no indication of its length. The
flames didn't stop it at all, just annoyed
it.</p>

<p>Jason had some idea of the thing's
length as the street cracked and buckled
for fifty meters on each side
of the pit. Great loops of the creature
began to emerge from the ground.
He fired his gun, as did the others.
Not that it seemed to have any effect.
More and more people were appearing,
armed with a variety of weapons.
Flame-throwers and grenades seemed
to be the most effective.</p>

<p>"<i>Clear the area ... we're going to
saturate it. Fall back.</i>"</p>

<p>The voice was so loud it jarred
Jason's ear. He turned and recognized
Kerk, who had arrived with truckloads
of equipment. He had a power
speaker on his back, the mike hung
in front of his lips. His amplified
voice brought an instant reaction
from the crowd. They began to move.</p>

<p>There was still doubt in Jason's
mind what to do. Clear the area?
But what area? He started towards
Kerk, before he realized that the rest
of the Pyrrans were going in the
opposite direction. Even under two
gravities they <i>moved</i>.</p>

<p>Jason had a naked feeling of being
alone on the stage. He was in the
center of the street, and the others
had vanished. No one remained. Except
the wounded man Jason had
helped. He stumbled towards Jason,
waving his good arm. Jason couldn't
understand what he said. Kerk was
shouting orders again from one of
the trucks. They had started to move
too. The urgency struck home and
Jason started to run.</p>

<p>It was too late. On all sides the
earth was buckling, cracking, as more
loops of the underground thing
forced its way into the light. Safety
lay ahead. Only in front of it rose
an arch of dirt-encrusted gray.</p>

<hr />

<p>There are seconds of time that
seem to last an eternity. A moment
of subjective time that is grabbed and
stretched to an infinite distance. This
was one of those moments. Jason
stood, frozen. Even the smoke in the
sky hung unmoving. The high-standing
loop of alien life was before him,
every detail piercingly clear.</p>

<p>Thick as a man, ribbed and gray
as old bark. Tendrils projected from
all parts of it, pallid and twisting
lengths that writhed slowly with
snakelike life. Shaped like a plant,
yet with the motions of an animal.
And cracking, splitting. This was the
worst.</p>

<p>Seams and openings appeared.
Splintering, gaping mouths that
vomited out a horde of pallid animals.
Jason heard their shriekings,
shrill yet remote. He saw the needlelike
teeth that lined their jaws.</p>

<p>The paralysis of the unknown held
him there. He should have died.
Kerk was thundering at him through
the power speaker, others were firing
into the attacking creature. Jason
knew nothing.</p>

<p>Then he was shot forward, pushed
by a rock-hard shoulder. The wounded
man was still there, trying to get
Jason clear. Gun clenched in his jaws
he dragged Jason along with his good
arm. Towards the creature. The
others stopped firing. They saw his
plan and it was a good one.</p>

<p>A loop of the thing arched into
the air, leaving an opening between
its body and the ground. The
wounded Pyrran planted his feet and
tightened his muscles. One-handed,
with a single thrust, he picked Jason
off the ground and sent him hurtling
under the living arch. Moving tendrils
brushed fire along his face, then
he was through, rolling over and
over on the ground. The wounded
Pyrran leaped after him.</p>

<p>It was too late. There had been a
chance for one person to get out. The
Pyrran could have done it easily&mdash;instead
he had pushed Jason first.
The thing was aware of movement
when Jason brushed its tendrils. It
dropped and caught the wounded
man under its weight. He vanished
from sight as the tendrils wrapped
around him and the animals swarmed
over. His trigger must have pulled
back to full automatic because the
gun kept firing a long time after he
should have been dead.</p>

<p>Jason crawled. Some of the fanged
animals ran towards him, but were
shot. He knew nothing about this.
Then rude hands grabbed him up and
pulled him forward. He slammed
into the side of a truck and Kerk's
face was in front of his, flushed and
angry. One of the giant fists closed
on the front of Jason's clothes and
he was lifted off his feet, shaken
like a limp bag of rags. He offered
no protest and could not have even
if Kerk had killed him.</p>

<p>When he was thrown to the
ground, someone picked him up and
slid him into the back of the truck.
He did not lose consciousness as the
truck bounced away, yet he could not
move. In a moment the fatigue would
go away and he would sit up. That
was all he was, just a little tired.
Even as he thought this he passed
out.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XIII.</h2>

<p>"Just like old times," Jason said
when Brucco came into the room
with a tray of food. Without a word
Brucco served Jason and the wounded
men in the other beds, then left.
"Thanks," Jason called after his retreating
back.</p>

<p>A joke, a twist of a grin, like it
always was. Sure. But even as he
grinned and his lips shaped a joke,
Jason felt them like a veneer on the
outside. Something plastered on with
a life of its own. Inside he was numb
and immovable. His body was stiff
as his eyes still watched that arch of
alien flesh descend and smother the
one-armed Pyrran with its million
burning fingers.</p>

<p>He could feel himself under the
arch. After all, hadn't the wounded
man taken his place? He finished the
meal without realizing that he ate.</p>

<p>Ever since that morning, when he
had recovered consciousness, it had
been like this. He knew that he
should have died out there in that
battle-torn street. <i>His</i> life should
have been snuffed out, for making
the mistake of thinking that he could
actually help the battling Pyrrans.
Instead of being underfoot and in
the way. If it hadn't been for Jason,
the man with the wounded arm
would have been brought here to the
safety of the reorientation buildings.
He knew he was lying in the bed
that belonged to that man.</p>

<p>The man who had given his life
for Jason's.</p>

<p>The man whose name he didn't
even know.</p>

<p>There were drugs in the food and
they made him sleep. The medicated
pads soaked the pain and rawness
out of the burns where the tentacles
had seared his face. When he awoke
the second time, his touch with reality
had been restored.</p>

<p>A man had died so he could live.
Jason faced the fact. He couldn't
restore that life, no matter how much
he wanted to. What he could do was
make the man's death worth while.
If it can be said that any death was
worth while ... He forced his
thoughts from that track.</p>

<p>Jason knew what he had to do.
His work was even more important
now. If he could solve the riddle of
this deadly world, he could repay in
part the debt he owed.</p>

<p>Sitting up made his head spin and
he held to the edge of the bed until
it slowed down. The others in the
room ignored him as he slowly and
painfully dragged on his clothes.
Brucco came in, saw what he was
doing, and left again without a
word.</p>

<p>Dressing took a long time, but it
was finally done. When Jason finally
left the room he found Kerk waiting
for him.</p>

<p>"Kerk ... I want to tell you ..."</p>

<p>"Tell me <i>nothing</i>!" The thunder
of Kerk's voice bounced back from
the ceiling and walls. "I'm telling
<i>you</i>. I'll tell you once and that will
be the end of it. You're not wanted
on Pyrrus, Jason dinAlt, neither you
nor your precious off-world schemes
are wanted here. I let you convince
me once with your twisted tongue.
Helped you at the expense of more
important work. I should have
known what the result of your 'logic'
would be. Now I've seen. Welf died
so you could live. He was twice the
man you will ever be."</p>

<p>"Welf? Was that his name?" Jason
asked stumblingly. "I didn't
know&mdash;"</p>

<p>"You didn't even know." Kerk's
lips pulled back from his teeth in a
grimace of disgust. "You didn't even
know his name&mdash;yet he died that
you might continue your miserable
existence." Kerk spat, as if the
words gave a vile flavor to his
speech, and stamped towards the exit
lock. Almost as an afterthought he
turned back to Jason.</p>

<p>"You'll stay here in the sealed
buildings until the ship returns in
two weeks. Then you will leave this
planet and never come back. If you
do, I'll kill you instantly. With pleasure."
He started through the lock.</p>

<p>"Wait," Jason shouted. "You
can't decide like that. You haven't
even seen the evidence I've uncovered.
Ask Meta&mdash;" The lock thumped
shut and Kerk was gone.</p>

<hr />

<p>The whole thing was just too stupid.
Anger began to replace the
futile despair of a moment before.
He was being treated like an irresponsible
child, the importance of
his discovery of the log completely
ignored.</p>

<p>Jason turned and saw for the first
time that Brucco was standing there.
"Did you hear that?" Jason asked
him.</p>

<p>"Yes. And I quite agree. You can
consider yourself lucky."</p>

<p>"Lucky!" Jason was the angry one
now. "Lucky to be treated like a
moronic child, with contempt for
everything I do&mdash;"</p>

<p>"I said lucky," Brucco snapped.
"Welf was Kerk's only surviving
son. Kerk had high hopes for him,
was training him to take his place
eventually." He turned to leave but
Jason called after him.</p>

<p>"Wait. I'm sorry about Welf. I
can't be any sorrier knowing that he
was Kerk's son. But at least it explains
why Kerk is so quick to throw
me out&mdash;as well as the evidence I
have uncovered. The log of the
ship&mdash;"</p>

<p>"I know, I've seen it," Brucco
said. "Meta brought it in. Very interesting
historical document."</p>

<p>"That's all you can see it as&mdash;an
historical document? The significance
of the planetary change escapes
you?"</p>

<p>"It doesn't escape me," Brucco
answered briefly, "but I cannot see
that it has any relevancy today. The
past is unchangeable and we must
fight in the present. That is enough
to occupy all our energies."</p>

<p>Jason felt too exhausted to argue
the point any more. He ran into the
same stone wall with all the Pyrrans.
Theirs was a logic of the moment.
The past and the future unchangeable,
unknowable&mdash;and uninteresting.
"How is the perimeter battle
going?" he asked, wanting to change
the subject.</p>

<p>"Finished. Or in the last stages at
least," Brucco was almost enthusiastic
as he showed Jason some stereos
of the attackers. He did not notice
Jason's repressed shudder.</p>

<p>"This was one of the most serious
breakthroughs in years, but we
caught it in time. I hate to think
what would have happened if they
hadn't been detected for a few weeks
more."</p>

<p>"What are those things?" Jason
asked. "Giant snakes of some
kind?"</p>

<p>"Don't be absurd," Brucco snorted.
He tapped the stereo with his
thumbnail. "Roots. That's all. Greatly
modified, but still roots. They
came in under the perimeter barrier,
much deeper than anything we've
had before. Not a real threat in
themselves as they have very little
mobility. Die soon after being cut.
The danger came from their being
used as access tunnels. They're bored
through and through with animal
runs, and two or three species of
beasts live in a sort of symbiosis inside.</p>

<p>"Now we know what they are
we can watch for them. The danger
was they could have completely undermined
the perimeter and come in
from all sides at once. Not much we
could have done then."</p>

<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/011.png" width="350" height="284" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>The edge of destruction. Living
on the lip of a volcano. The Pyrrans
took satisfaction from any day that
passed without total annihilation.
There seemed no way to change
their attitude. Jason let the conversation
die there. He picked up the
log of the <i>Pollux Victory</i> from
Brucco's quarters and carried it back
to his room. The wounded Pyrrans
there ignored him as he dropped
onto the bed and opened the book to
the first page.</p>

<p>For two days he did not leave his
quarters. The wounded men were
soon gone and he had the room to
himself. Page by page he went
through the log, until he knew every
detail of the settlement of Pyrrus.
His notes and cross-references piled
up. He made an accurate map of the
original settlement, superimposed
over a modern one. They didn't
match at all.</p>

<p>It was a dead end. With one map
held over the other, what he had
suspected was painfully clear. The
descriptions of terrain and physical
features in the log were accurate
enough. The city had obviously been
moved since the first landing. Whatever
records had been kept would be
in the library&mdash;and he had exhausted
that source. Anything else
would have been left behind and
long since destroyed.</p>

<p>Rain lashed against the thick window
above his head, lit suddenly by
a flare of lightning. The unseen volcanoes
were active again, vibrating
the floor with their rumblings deep
in the earth.</p>

<p>The shadow of defeat pressed
heavily down on Jason. Rounding
his shoulders and darkening, even
more, the overcast day.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XIV.</h2>

<p>Jason spent one depressed day lying
on his bunk counting rivets,
forcing himself to accept defeat.
Kerk's order that he was not to leave
the sealed building tied his hands
completely. He felt himself close to
the answer&mdash;but he was never going
to get it.</p>

<p>One day of defeat was all he could
take. Kerk's attitude was completely
emotional, untempered by the slightest
touch of logic. This fact kept driving
home until Jason could no longer
ignore it. Emotional reasoning was
something he had learned to mistrust
early in life. He couldn't agree with
Kerk in the slightest&mdash;which meant
he had to utilize the ten remaining
days to solve the problem. If it meant
disobeying Kerk, it would still have
to be done.</p>

<p>He grabbed up his noteplate with
a new enthusiasm. His first sources
of information had been used up, but
there must be others. Chewing the
scriber and needling his brain, he
slowly built up a list of other possibilities.
Any idea, no matter how
wild, was put down. When the plate
was filled he wiped the long shots
and impossibles&mdash;such as consulting
off-world historical records. This was
a Pyrran problem, and had to be
settled on this planet or not at all.</p>

<p>The list worked down to two probables.
Either old records, notebooks
or diaries that individual Pyrrans
might have in their possession, or
verbal histories that had been passed
down the generations by word of
mouth. The first choice seemed to be
the most probable and he acted on it
at once. After a careful check of his
medikit and gun he went to see
Brucco.</p>

<p>"What's new and deadly in the
world since I left?" he asked.</p>

<p>Brucco glared at him. "You can't
go out, Kerk has forbidden it."</p>

<p>"Did he put you in charge of
guarding me to see if I obeyed?"
Jason's voice was quiet and cold.</p>

<p>Brucco rubbed his jaw and frowned
in thought. Finally he just shrugged.
"No, I'm not guarding you&mdash;nor
do I want the job. As far as I
know this is between you and Kerk
and it can stay that way. Leave whenever
you want. And get yourself
killed quietly some place so there will
be an end to the trouble you cause
once and for all."</p>

<p>"I love you, too," Jason said.
"Now brief me on the wildlife."</p>

<p>The only new mutation that routine
precautions wouldn't take care
of was a slate-colored lizard that spit
a fast nerve poison with deadly accuracy.
Death took place in seconds
if the saliva touched any bare skin.
The lizards had to be looked out for,
and shot before they came within
range. An hour of lizard-blasting in
a training chamber made him proficient
in the exact procedure.</p>

<hr />

<p>Jason left the sealed buildings
quietly and no one saw him go. He
followed the map to the nearest barracks,
shuffling tiredly through the
dusty streets. It was a hot, quiet afternoon,
broken only by rumblings from
the distance, and the occasional crack
of his gun.</p>

<p>It was cool inside the thick-walled
barracks buildings, and he collapsed
onto a bench until the sweat dried
and his heart stopped pounding.
Then he went to the nearest recreation
room to start his search.</p>

<p>Before it began it was finished.
None of the Pyrrans kept old artifacts
of any kind and thought the
whole idea was very funny. After the
twentieth negative answer Jason was
ready to admit defeat in this line of
investigation. There was as much
chance of meeting a Pyrran with old
documents as finding a bundle of
grandfather's letters in a soldier's kit
bag.</p>

<p>This left a single possibility&mdash;verbal
histories. Again Jason questioned
with the same lack of results. The fun
had worn off the game for the Pyrrans
and they were beginning to
growl. Jason stopped while he was
still in one piece. The commissary
served him a meal that tasted like
plastic paste and wood pulp. He ate it
quickly, then sat brooding over the
empty tray, hating to admit to another
dead end. Who could supply
him with answers? All the people he
had talked to were so young. They
had no interest or patience for story-telling.
That was an old folks' hobby&mdash;and
there were no oldsters on Pyrrus.</p>

<p>With one exception that he knew
of, the librarian, Poli. It was a possibility.
A man who worked with records
and books might have an interest
in some of the older ones. He
might even remember reading volumes
now destroyed. A very slim lead
indeed, but one that had to be pursued.</p>

<p>Walking to the library almost killed
Jason. The torrential rains made
the footing bad, and in the dim light
it was hard to see what was coming.
A snapper came in close enough to
take out a chunk of flesh before he
could blast it. The antitoxin made
him dizzy and he lost some blood
before he could get the wound dressed.
He reached the library, exhausted
and angry.</p>

<p>Poli was working on the guts of
one of the catalogue machines. He
didn't stop until Jason had tapped
him on the shoulder. Switching on
his hearing aid, the Pyrran stood
quietly, crippled and bent, waiting
for Jason to talk.</p>

<p>"Have you any old papers or letters
that you have kept for your
personal use?"</p>

<p>A shake of the head, <i>no</i>.</p>

<p>"What about stories&mdash;you know,
about great things that have happened
in the past, that someone
might have told you when you were
young?" Negative.</p>

<p>Results negative. Every question
was answered by a shake of Poli's
head, and very soon the old man
grew irritated and pointed to the
work he hadn't finished.</p>

<p>"Yes, I know you have work to
do," Jason said. "But this is important."
Poli shook his head an angry
<i>no</i> and reached to turn off his hearing
aid. Jason groped for a question
that might get a more positive answer.
There was something tugging
at his mind, a word he had heard
and made a note of, to be investigated
later. Something that Kerk had
said ...</p>

<p>"That's it!" It was right there&mdash;on
the tip of his tongue. "Just a
second, Poli, just one more question.
What is a 'grubber'? Have you ever
seen one or know what they do, or
where they can be found&mdash;"</p>

<p>The words were cut off as Poli
whirled and lashed the back of his
good arm into Jason's face. Though
the man was aged and crippled, the
blow almost fractured Jason's jaw,
sending him sliding across the floor.
Through a daze he saw Poli hobbling
towards him, making thick bubbling
noises in his ruined throat; what remained
of his face twisted and working
with anger.</p>

<p>This was no time for diplomacy.
Moving as fast as he could, with the
high-G, foot-slapping shuffle, Jason
headed for the sealed door. He was
no match for any Pyrran in hand-to-hand
combat, young and small or old
and crippled. The door thunked
open, as he went through, and barely
closed in Poli's face.</p>

<p>Outside the rain had turned to
snow and Jason trudged wearily
through the slush, rubbing his sore
jaw and turning over the only fact
he had. <i>Grubber</i> was a key&mdash;but to
what? And who did he dare ask for
more information? Kerk was the man
he had talked to best, but not any
more. That left only Meta as a possible
source. He wanted to see her at
once, but sudden exhaustion swept
through him. It took all of his
strength to stumble back to the school
buildings.</p>

<hr />

<p>In the morning he ate and left
early. There was only a week left.
It was impossible to hurry and he
cursed as he dragged his double-weight
body to the assignment center.
Meta was on night perimeter duty
and should be back to her quarters
soon. He shuffled over there and was
lying on her bunk when she came in.</p>

<p>"Get out," she said in a flat voice.
"Or do I throw you out?"</p>

<p>"Patience, please," he said as he
sat up. "Just resting here until you
came back. I have a single question,
and if you will answer it for me I'll
go and stop bothering you."</p>

<p>"What is it?" she asked, tapping
her foot with impatience. But there
was also a touch of curiosity in her
voice. Jason thought carefully before
he spoke.</p>

<p>"Now <i>please</i>, don't shoot me. You
know I'm an off-worlder with a big
mouth, and you have heard me say
some awful things without taking a
shot at me. Now I have another one.
Will you please show your superiority
to the other people of the galaxy
by holding your temper and not reducing
me to component atoms?"</p>

<p>His only answer was a tap of the
foot, so he took a deep breath and
plunged in.</p>

<p>"What is a 'grubber'?"</p>

<p>For a long moment she was quiet,
unmoving. Then she curled her lips
back in disgust. "You find the most
repulsive topics."</p>

<p>"That may be so," he said, "but
it still doesn't answer my question."</p>

<p>"It's ... well, the sort of thing
people just don't talk about."</p>

<p>"I do," he assured her.</p>

<p>"Well, I <i>don't</i>! It's the most disgusting
thing in the world, and that's
all I'm going to say. Talk to Krannon,
but not to me." She had him
by the arm while she talked and he
was half dragged to the hall. The
door slammed behind him and he
muttered "<i>lady wrestler</i>" under his
breath. His anger ebbed away as he
realized that she had given him a
clue in spite of herself. Next step,
find out who or what Krannon was.</p>

<p>Assignment center listed a man
named Krannon, and gave his shift
number and work location. It was
close by and Jason walked there. A
large, cubical, and windowless building,
with the single word <i>food</i> next
to each of the sealed entrances. The
small entrance he went through was
a series of automatic chambers that
cycled him through ultrasonics, ultraviolet,
antibio spray, rotating
brushes and three final rinses. He
was finally admitted, damper but
much cleaner to the central area.
Men and robots were stacking crates
and he asked one of the men for
Krannon. The man looked him up
and down coldly and spat on his
shoes before answering.</p>

<p>Krannon worked in a large storage
bay by himself. He was a stocky
man in patched coveralls whose only
expression was one of intense gloom.
When Jason came in he stopped
hauling bales and sat down on the
nearest one. The lines of unhappiness
were cut into his face and seemed
to grow deeper while Jason explained
what he was after. All the
talk of ancient history on Pyrrus
bored him as well and he yawned
openly. When Jason finished he
yawned again and didn't even bother
to answer him.</p>

<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/012.png" width="350" height="338" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>Jason waited a moment, then asked
again. "I said do you have any
old books, papers, records or that
sort of thing?"</p>

<p>"You sure picked the right guy to
bother, off-worlder," was his only
answer. "After talking to me you're
going to have nothing but trouble."</p>

<p>"Why is that?" Jason asked.</p>

<p>"Why?" For the first time he was
animated with something besides
grief. "I'll tell you why! I made one
mistake, just one, and I get a life
sentence. For life&mdash;how would you
like that? Just me alone, being by
myself all the time. Even taking orders
from the grubbers."</p>

<p>Jason controlled himself, keeping
the elation out of his voice. "Grubbers?
What are grubbers?"</p>

<p>The enormity of the question
stopped Krannon, it seemed impossible
that there could be a man alive
who had never heard of grubbers.
Happiness lifted some of the gloom
from his face as he realized that he
had a captive audience who would
listen to his troubles.</p>

<p>"Grubbers are traitors&mdash;that's
what they are. Traitors to the human
race and they ought to be wiped
out. Living in the jungle. The things
they do with the animals&mdash;"</p>

<p>"You mean they're people ...
Pyrrans like yourself?" Jason broke
in.</p>

<p>"Not like <i>me</i>, mister. Don't make
that mistake again if you want to go
on living. Maybe I dozed off on
guard once so I got stuck with this
job. That doesn't mean I like it or
like them. They stink, really stink,
and if it wasn't for the food we get
from them they'd all be dead tomorrow.
That's the kind of killing job
I could really put my heart into."</p>

<p>"If they supply you with food,
you must give them something in
return?"</p>

<p>"Trade goods, beads, knives, the
usual things. Supply sends them over
in cartons and I take care of the delivery."</p>

<p>"How?" Jason asked.</p>

<p>"By armored truck to the delivery
site. Then I go back later to pick up
the food they've left in exchange."</p>

<p>"Can I go with you on the next
delivery?"</p>

<p>Krannon frowned over the idea
for a minute. "Yeah, I suppose it's
all right if you're stupid enough to
come. You can help me load. They're
between harvests now, so the next
trip won't be for eight days&mdash;"</p>

<p>"But that's after the ship leaves&mdash;it'll
be too late. Can't you go earlier?"</p>

<p>"Don't tell me your troubles, mister,"
Krannon grumbled, climbing to
his feet. "That's when I go and the
date's not changing for you."</p>

<p>Jason realized he had got as much
out of the man as was possible for
one session. He started for the door,
then turned.</p>

<p>"One thing," he asked. "Just
what do these savages&mdash;the grubbers&mdash;look
like?"</p>

<p>"How do I know," Krannon snapped.
"I trade with them, I don't
make love to them. If I ever saw
one, I'd shoot him down on the
spot." He flexed his fingers and his
gun jumped in and out of his hand
as he said it. Jason quietly let himself
out.</p>

<p>Lying on his bunk, resting his
gravity-weary body, he searched for
a way to get Krannon to change the
delivery date. His millions of credits
were worthless on this world
without currency. If the man
couldn't be convinced, he had to be
bribed. With what? Jason's eyes
touched the locker where his off-world
clothing still hung, and he
had an idea.</p>

<p>It was morning before he could
return to the food warehouse&mdash;and
one day closer to his deadline. Krannon
didn't bother to look up from
his work when Jason came in.</p>

<p>"Do you want this?" Jason asked,
handing the outcast a flat gold case
inset with a single large diamond.
Krannon grunted and turned it over
in his hands.</p>

<p>"A toy," he said. "What is it good
for?"</p>

<p>"Well, when you press this button
you get a light." A flame appeared
through a hole in the top.
Krannon started to hand it back.</p>

<p>"What do I need a little fire for?
Here, keep it."</p>

<p>"Wait a second," Jason said,
"that's not all it does. When you
press the jewel in the center one of
these comes out." A black pellet the
size of his fingernail dropped into
his palm. "A grenade, made of
solid ulranite. Just squeeze it hard
and throw. Three seconds later it
explodes with enough force to blast
open this building."</p>

<p>This time Krannon almost smiled
as he reached for the case. Destructive
and death-dealing weapons are
like candy to a Pyrran. While he
looked at it Jason made his offer.</p>

<p>"The case and bombs are yours if
you move the date of your next delivery
up to tomorrow&mdash;and let me
go with you."</p>

<p>"Be here at 0500," Krannon
said. "We leave early."</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XV.</h2>

<p>The truck rumbled up to the
perimeter gate and stopped. Krannon
waved to the guards through
the front window, then closed a
metal shield over it. When the gates
swung open the truck&mdash;really a
giant armored tank&mdash;ground slowly
forward. There was a second gate
beyond the first, that did not open
until the interior one was closed.
Jason looked through the second-driver's
periscope as the outer gate
lifted. Automatic flame-throwers
flared through the opening, cutting
off only when the truck reached
them. A scorched area ringed the
gate, beyond that the jungle began.
Unconsciously Jason shrank back in
his seat.</p>

<p>All the plants and animals he
had seen only specimens of, existed
here in profusion. Thorn-ringed
branches and vines laced themselves
into a solid mat, through which the
wild life swarmed. A fury of sound
hurled at them, thuds and scratchings
rang on the armor. Krannon
laughed and closed the switch that
electrified the outer grid. The
scratchings died away as the beasts
completed the circuit to the grounded
hull.</p>

<p>It was slow-speed, low-gear work
tearing through the jungle. Krannon
had his face buried in the periscope
mask and silently fought the
controls. With each mile the going
seemed to get better, until he finally
swung up the periscope and opened
the window armor. The jungle was
still thick and deadly, but nothing
like the area immediately around the
perimeter. It appeared as if most of
the lethal powers of Pyrrus were
concentrated in the single area
around the settlement. Why? Jason
asked himself. Why this intense and
planetary hatred?</p>

<p>The motors died and Krannon
stood up, stretching. "We're here,"
he said. "Let's unload."</p>

<p>There was bare rock around the
truck, a rounded hillock that projected
from the jungle, too smooth
and steep for vegetation to get a
hold. Krannon opened the cargo
hatches and they pushed out the
boxes and crates. When they finished
Jason slumped down, exhausted,
onto the pile.</p>

<p>"Get back in, we're leaving,"
Krannon said.</p>

<p>"You are, I'm staying right
here."</p>

<p>Krannon looked at him coldly.
"Get in the truck or I'll kill you.
No one stays out here. For one thing
you couldn't live an hour alone. But
worse than that the grubbers would
get you. Kill you at once, of course,
but that's not important. But you
have equipment that we can't allow
into their hands. You want to see a
grubber with a gun?"</p>

<p>While the Pyrran talked, Jason's
thoughts had rushed ahead. He
hoped that Krannon was as thick
of head as he was fast of reflex.</p>

<p>Jason looked at the trees, let his
gaze move up through the thick
branches. Though Krannon was still
talking, he was automatically aware
of Jason's attention. When Jason's
eyes widened and his gun jumped
into his hand, Krannon's own gun
appeared and he turned in the same
direction.</p>

<p>"There&mdash;in the top!" Jason
shouted, and fired into the tangle
of branches. Krannon fired, too. As
soon as he did, Jason hurled himself
backwards, curled into a ball,
rolling down the inclined rock. The
shots had covered the sounds of his
movements, and before Krannon
could turn back the gravity had
dragged him down the rock into the
thick foliage. Crashing branches
slapped at him, but slowed his fall.
When he stopped moving he was
lost in the tangle. Krannon's shots
came too late to hit him.</p>

<p>Lying there, tired and bruised,
Jason heard the Pyrran cursing him
out. He stamped around on the
rock, fired a few shots, but knew
better than to enter the trees. Finally
he gave up and went back to
the truck. The motor gunned into
life and the treads clanked and
scraped down the rock and back into
the jungle. There were muted
rumblings and crashes that slowly
died away.</p>

<p>Then Jason was alone.</p>

<hr />

<p>Up until that instant he hadn't
realized quite how alone he would
be. Surrounded by nothing but
death, the truck already vanished
from sight. He had to force down
an overwhelming desire to run after
it. What was done was done.</p>

<p>This was a long chance to take,
but it was the only way to contact
the grubbers. They were savages,
but still they had come from human
stock. And they hadn't sunk so low
as to stop the barter with the civilized
Pyrrans. He had to contact
them, befriend them. Find out how
they had managed to live safely on
this madhouse world.</p>

<p>If there had been another way to
lick the problem, he would have
taken it; he didn't relish the role of
martyred hero. But Kerk and his
deadline had forced his hand. The
contact had to be made fast and this
was the only way.</p>

<p>There was no telling where the
savages were, or how soon they
would arrive. If the woods weren't
too lethal he could hide there, pick
his time to approach them. If they
found him among the supplies, they
might skewer him on the spot with
a typical Pyrran reflex.</p>

<p>Walking warily he approached
the line of trees. Something moved
on a branch, but vanished as he
came near. None of the plants near
a thick-trunked tree looked poisonous,
so he slipped behind it. There
was nothing deadly in sight and it
surprised him. He let his body relax
a bit, leaning against the rough
bark.</p>

<p>Something soft and choking fell
over his head, his body was seized
in a steel grip. The more he struggled
the tighter it held him until
the blood thundered in his ears and
his lungs screamed for air.</p>

<p>Only when he grew limp did the
pressure let up. His first panic
ebbed a little when he realized that
it wasn't an animal that attacked
him. He knew nothing about the
grubbers, but they were human so
he still had a chance.</p>

<p>His arms and legs were tied, the
power holster ripped from his arm.
He felt strangely naked without it.
The powerful hands grabbed him
again and he was hurled into the
air, to fall face down across something
warm and soft. Fear pressed
in again, it was a large animal of
some kind. And all Pyrran animals
were deadly.</p>

<p>When the animal moved off, carrying
him, panic was replaced by a
feeling of mounting elation. The
grubbers had managed to work out
a truce of some kind with at least
one form of animal life. He had to
find out how. If he could get that
secret&mdash;and get it back to the city&mdash;it
would justify all his work and
pain. It might even justify Welf's
death if the age-old war could be
slowed or stopped.</p>

<p>Jason's tightly bound limbs hurt
terribly at first, but grew numb with
the circulation shut off. The jolting
ride continued endlessly, he had no
way of measuring the time. A rainfall
soaked him, then he felt his
clothes steaming as the sun came
out.</p>

<p>The ride was finally over. He was
pulled from the animal's back and
dumped down. His arms dropped
free as someone loosed the bindings.
The returning circulation soaked
him in pain as he lay there, struggling
to move. When his hands finally
obeyed him he lifted them to
his face and stripped away the covering,
a sack of thick fur. Light
blinded him as he sucked in breath
after breath of clean air.</p>

<p>Blinking against the glare, he
looked around. He was lying on a
floor of crude planking, the setting
sun shining into his eyes through
the doorless entrance of the building.
There was a ploughed field outside,
stretching down the curve of
hill to the edge of the jungle. It was
too dark to see much inside the hut.</p>

<p>Something blocked the light of
the doorway, a tall animallike figure.
On second look Jason realized
it was a man with long hair and
thick beard. He was dressed in furs,
even his legs were wrapped in fur
leggings. His eyes were fixed on his
captive, while one hand fondled an
ax that hung from his waist.</p>

<p>"Who're you? What y'want?"
the bearded man asked suddenly.</p>

<p>Jason picked his words slowly,
wondering if this savage shared the
same hair-trigger temper as the city
dwellers.</p>

<p>"My name is Jason. I come in
peace. I want to be your friend ..."</p>

<p>"Lies!" the man grunted, and
pulled the ax from his belt. "Junkman
tricks. I saw y'hide. Wait to kill
me. Kill you first." He tested the
edge of the blade with a horny
thumb, then raised it.</p>

<p>"Wait!" Jason said desperately.
"You don't understand."</p>

<p>The ax swung down.</p>

<p>"I'm from off-world and&mdash;"</p>

<p>A solid thunk shook him as the
ax buried itself in the wood next to
his head. At the last instant the
man had twitched it aside. He grabbed
the front of Jason's clothes and
pulled him up until their faces
touched.</p>

<p>"S'true?" he shouted. "Y'from
off-world?" His hand opened and
Jason dropped back before he could
answer. The savage jumped over
him, towards the dim rear of the
hut.</p>

<p>"Rhes must know of this," he
said as he fumbled with something
on the wall. Light sprang out.</p>

<p>All Jason could do was stare.
The hairy, fur-covered savage was
operating a communicator. The calloused,
dirt-encrusted fingers deftly
snapped open the circuits, dialed a
number.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XVI.</h2>

<p>It made no sense. Jason tried to
reconcile the modern machine with
the barbarian and couldn't. Who
was he calling? The existence of one
communicator meant there was at
least another. Was Rhes a person
or a thing?</p>

<p>With a mental effort he grabbed
hold of his thoughts and braked
them to a stop. There was something
new here, factors he hadn't counted
on. He kept reassuring himself there
was an explanation for everything,
once you had your facts straight.</p>

<p>Jason closed his eyes, shutting out
the glaring rays of the sun where it
cut through the tree tops, and reconsidered
his facts. They separated
evenly into two classes; those he had
observed for himself, and those he
had learned from the city dwellers.
This last class of "facts" he would
hold, to see if they fitted with what
he learned. There was a good
chance that most, or all, of them
would prove false.</p>

<p>"Get up," the voice jarred into
his thoughts. "We're leaving."</p>

<p>His legs were still numb and
hardly usable. The bearded man
snorted in disgust and hauled him
to his feet, propping him against
the outer wall. Jason clutched the
knobby bark of the logs when he
was left alone. He looked around,
soaking up impressions.</p>

<p>It was the first time he had been
on a farm since he had run away
from home. A different world with
a different ecology, but the similarity
was apparent enough to him. A
new-sown field stretched down the
hill in front of the shack. Ploughed
by a good farmer. Even, well cast
furrows that followed the contour
of the slope. Another, larger log
building was next to this one, probably
a barn.</p>

<p>There was a snuffling sound behind
him and Jason turned quickly&mdash;and
froze. His hand called for the
missing gun and his finger tightened
down on a trigger that wasn't
there.</p>

<p>It had come out of the jungle and
padded up quietly behind him. It
had six thick legs with clawed feet
that dug into the ground. The two-meter
long body was covered with
matted yellow and black fur, all except
the skull and shoulders. These
were covered with overlapping
horny plates. Jason could see all this
because the beast was that close.</p>

<p>He waited to die.</p>

<p>The mouth opened, a froglike division
of the hairless skull, revealing
double rows of jagged teeth.</p>

<p>"Here, Fido," the bearded man
said, coming up behind Jason and
snapping his fingers at the same
time. The thing bounded forward,
brushing past the dazed Jason, and
rubbed his head against the man's
leg. "Nice doggy," the man said, his
fingers scratching under the edge of
the carapace where it joined the
flesh.</p>

<p>The bearded man had brought
two of the riding animals out of the
barn, saddled and bridled. Jason
barely noticed the details of smooth
skin and long legs as he swung up
on one. His feet were quickly lashed
to the stirrups. When they started
the skull-headed beast followed
them.</p>

<p>"Nice doggy!" Jason said, and
for no reason started to laugh. The
bearded man turned and scowled at
him until he was quiet.</p>

<hr />

<p>By the time they entered the jungle
it was dark. It was impossible to
see under the thick foliage, and they
used no lights. The animals seemed
to know the way. There were scraping
noises and shrill calls from the
jungle around them, but it didn't
bother Jason too much. Perhaps the
automatic manner in which the other
man undertook the journey reassured
him. Or the presence of the
"dog" that he felt rather than saw.
The trip was a long one, but not too
uncomfortable.</p>

<p>The regular motion of the animal
and his fatigue overcame Jason and
he dozed into a fitful sleep, waking
with a start each time he slumped
forward. In the end he slept sitting
up in the saddle. Hours passed this
way, until he opened his eyes and
saw a square of light before them.
The trip was over.</p>

<p>His legs were stiff and galled
with saddle sores. After his feet
were untied getting down was an
effort, and he almost fell. A door
opened and Jason went in. It took
his eyes some moments to get used
to the light, until he could make out
the form of a man on the bed before
him.</p>

<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/013.png" width="350" height="359" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>"Come over here and sit down."
The voice was full and strong, accustomed
to command. The body
was that of an invalid. A blanket
covered him to the waist, above that
the flesh was sickly white, spotted
with red nodules, and hung loosely
over the bones. There seemed to be
nothing left of the man except skin
and skeleton.</p>

<p>"Not very nice," the man on the
bed said, "but I've grown used to
it." His tone changed abruptly.
"Naxa said you were from off-world.
Is that true?"</p>

<p>Jason nodded yes, and his answer
stirred the living skeleton to life.
The head lifted from the pillow and
the red-rimmed eyes sought his with
a desperate intensity.</p>

<p>"My name is Rhes and I'm a ...
grubber. Will you help me?"</p>

<p>Jason wondered at the intensity
of Rhes' question, all out of proportion
to the simple content of its
meaning. Yet he could see no reason
to give anything other than the first
and obvious answer that sprang to
his lips.</p>

<p>"Of course I'll help you, in
whatever way I can. As long as it
involves no injury to anyone else.
What do you want?"</p>

<p>The sick man's head had fallen
back limply, exhausted, as Jason
talked. But the fire still burned in
the eyes.</p>

<p>"Feel assured ... I want to injure
no others," Rhes said. "Quite
the opposite. As you see I am suffering
from a disease that our remedies
will not stop. Within a few
more days I will be dead. Now I
have seen ... the city people ...
using a device, they press it over a
wound or an animal bite. Do you
have one of these machines?"</p>

<p>"That sounds like a description of
the medikit." Jason touched the button
at his waist that dropped the
medikit into his hand. "I have mine
here. It analyzes and treats most ..."</p>

<p>"Would you use it on me?" Rhes
broke in, his voice suddenly urgent.</p>

<p>"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I should
have realized." He stepped forward
and pressed the machine over one
of the inflamed areas on Rhes' chest.
The operation light came on and the
thin shaft of the analyzer probe slid
down. When it withdrew the device
hummed, then clicked three times as
three separate hypodermic needles
lanced into the skin. Then the light
went out.</p>

<p>"Is that all?" Rhes asked, as he
watched Jason stow the medikit back
in his belt.</p>

<p>Jason nodded, then looked up
and noticed the wet marks of tears
on the sick man's face. Rhes became
aware at the same time and brushed
at them angrily.</p>

<p>"When a man is sick," he growled,
"the body and all its senses become
traitor. I don't think I have
cried since I was a child&mdash;but you
must realize it's not myself I'm crying
for. It's the untold thousands of
my people who have died for lack
of that little device you treat so casually."</p>

<p>"Surely you have medicines, doctors
of your own?"</p>

<p>"Herb doctors and witch doctors,"
Rhes said, consigning them all
to oblivion with a chop of his hand.
"The few hard-working and honest
men are hampered by the fact that
the faith healers can usually cure better
than their strongest potion."</p>

<p>The talking had tired Rhes. He
stopped suddenly and closed his
eyes. On his chest, the inflamed
areas were already losing their angry
color as the injections took
affect. Jason glanced around the
room, looking for clues to the mystery
of these people.</p>

<hr />

<p>Floor and walls were made of
wood lengths fitted together, free of
paint or decoration. They looked
simple and crude, fit only for the
savages he had expected to meet. Or
were they crude? The wood had a
sweeping, flamelike grain. When he
bent close he saw that wax had been
rubbed over the wood to bring out
this pattern. Was this the act of savages&mdash;or
of artistic men seeking to
make the most of simple materials?
The final effect was far superior to
the drab paint and riveted steel
rooms of the city-dwelling Pyrrans.
Wasn't it true that both ends of the
artistic scale were dominated by simplicity?
The untutored aborigine
made a simple expression of a clear
idea, and created beauty. At the other
extreme, the sophisticated critic
rejected over-elaboration and decoration
and sought the truthful
clarity of uncluttered art. At which
end of the scale was he looking
now?</p>

<p>These men were savages, he had
been told that. They dressed in furs
and spoke a slurred and broken language,
at least Naxa did. Rhes admitted
he preferred faith healers to
doctors. But, if all this were true,
where did the communicator fit into
the picture? Or the glowing ceiling
that illuminated the room with a soft
light?</p>

<p>Rhes opened his eyes and stared
at Jason, as if seeing him for the
first time. "Who are you?" he asked.
"And what are you doing
here?"</p>

<p>There was a cold menace in his
words and Jason understood why.
The city Pyrrans hated the "grubbers"
and, without a doubt, the feeling
was mutual. Naxa's ax had
proved that. Naxa had entered silently
while they talked, and stood
with his fingers touching the haft of
this same ax. Jason knew his life
was still in jeopardy, until he
gave an answer that satisfied these
men.</p>

<p>He couldn't tell the truth. If they
once suspected he was spying
among them to aid the city people,
it would be the end. Nevertheless,
he had to be free to talk about the
survival problem.</p>

<p>The answer hit him as soon as he
had stated the problem. All this had
only taken an instant to consider, as
he turned back to face the invalid,
and he answered at once. Trying to
keep his voice normal and unconcerned.</p>

<p>"I'm Jason dinAlt, an ecologist,
so you see I have the best reasons in
the universe for visiting this
planet&mdash;"</p>

<p>"What is an ecologist?" Rhes
broke in. There was nothing in his
voice to indicate whether he meant
the question seriously, or as a trap.
All traces of the ease of their earlier
conversation were gone, his voice
had the deadliness of a stingwing's
poison. Jason chose his words carefully.</p>

<p>"Simply stated, it is that branch
of biology that considers the relations
between organisms and their
environment. How climatic and other
factors affect the life forms, and
how the life forms in turn affect
each other and the environment."
That much Jason knew was true&mdash;but
he really knew very little more
about the subject so he moved on
quickly.</p>

<p>"I heard reports of this planet,
and finally came here to study it
firsthand. I did what work I could
in the shelter of the city, but it wasn't
enough. The people there think
I'm crazy, but they finally agreed to
let me make a trip out here."</p>

<p>"What arrangements have been
made for your return?" Naxa snapped.</p>

<p>"None," Jason told him. "They
seemed quite sure that I would be
killed instantly and had no hope of
me coming back. In fact, they refused
to let me go and I had to break
away."</p>

<p>This answer seemed to satisfy
Rhes and his face cracked into a
mirthless smile. "They would think
that, those junkmen. Can't move a
meter outside their own walls without
an armor-plated machine as big
as a barn. What did they tell you
about us?"</p>

<p>Again Jason knew a lot depended
on his answer. This time he thought
carefully before speaking.</p>

<p>"Well ... perhaps I'll get that
ax in the back of my neck for saying
this ... but I have to be honest.
You must know what they think.
They told me you were filthy and
ignorant savages who smelled. And
you ... well, had curious customs
you practiced with the animals. In
exchange for food, they traded you
beads and knives ..."</p>

<p>Both Pyrrans broke into a convulsion
of laughter at this. Rhes stopped
soon, from weakness, but Naxa
laughed himself into a coughing fit
and had to splash water over his
head from a gourd jug.</p>

<p>"That I believe well enough,"
Rhes said, "it sounds like the stupidity
they would talk. Those people
know nothing of the world they live
in. I hope the rest of what you said
is true, but even if it is not, you are
welcome here. You are from off-world,
that I know. No junkman
would have lifted a finger to save
my life. You are the first off-worlder
my people have ever known and for
that you are doubly welcome. We
will help you in any way we can.
My arm is your arm."</p>

<p>These last words had a ritual
sound to them, and when Jason repeated
them, Naxa nodded at the
correctness of this. At the same
time, Jason felt that they were more
than empty ritual. Interdependence
meant survival on Pyrrus, and he
knew that these people stood together
to the death against the mortal
dangers around them. He hoped the
ritual would include him in that
protective sphere.</p>

<p>"That is enough for tonight,"
Rhes said. "The spotted sickness had
weakened me, and your medicine has
turned me to jelly. You will stay
here, Jason. There is a blanket, but
no bed at least for now."</p>

<p>Enthusiasm had carried Jason this
far, making him forget the two-gee
exertions of the long day. Now fatigue
hit him a physical blow. He
had dim memories of refusing food
and rolling in the blanket on the
floor. After that, oblivion.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XVII.</h2>

<p>Every square inch of his body
ached where the doubled gravity had
pressed his flesh to the unyielding
wood of the floor. His eyes were
gummy and his mouth was filled
with an indescribable taste that came
off in chunks. Sitting up was an effort
and he had to stifle a groan as
his joints cracked.</p>

<p>"Good day, Jason," Rhes called
from the bed. "If I didn't believe in
medicine so strongly, I would be
tempted to say there is a miracle in
your machine that has cured me
overnight."</p>

<p>There was no doubt that he was
on the mend. The inflamed patches
had vanished and the burning light
was gone from his eyes. He sat,
propped up on the bed, watching the
morning sun melt the night's hailstorm
into the fields.</p>

<p>"There's meat in the cabinet
there," he said, "and either water or
visk to drink."</p>

<p>The visk proved to be a distilled
beverage of extraordinary potency
that instantly cleared the fog from
Jason's brain, though it did leave a
slight ringing in his ears. And the
meat was a tenderly smoked joint,
the best food he had tasted since
leaving Darkhan. Taken together
they restored his faith in life and
the future. He lowered his glass
with a relaxed sigh and looked
around.</p>

<p>With the pressures of immediate
survival and exhaustion removed,
his thoughts returned automatically
to his problem. What were these
people really like&mdash;and how had
they managed to survive in the deadly
wilderness? In the city he had
been told they were savages. Yet
there was a carefully tended and repaired
communicator on the wall.
And by the door a crossbow&mdash;that
fired machined metal bolts, he could
see the tool marks still visible on
their shanks. The one thing he needed
was more information. He could
start by getting rid of some of his
misinformation.</p>

<p>"Rhes, you laughed when I told
you what the city people said, about
trading you trinkets for food. What
do they really trade you?"</p>

<p>"Anything within certain limits,"
Rhes said. "Small manufactured
items, such as electronic components
for our communicators. Rustless alloys
we can't make in our forges,
cutting tools, atomic electric converters
that produce power from any
radioactive element. Things like that.
Within reason they'll trade anything
we ask that isn't on the forbidden
list. They need the food badly."</p>

<p>"And the items on the forbidden
list&mdash;?"</p>

<p>"Weapons, of course, or anything
that might be made into a powerful
weapon. They know we make gunpowder
so we can't get anything like
large castings or seamless tubing we
could make into heavy gun barrels.
We drill our own rifle barrels by
hand, though the crossbow is quiet
and faster in the jungle. Then they
don't like us to know very much, so
the only reading matter that gets to
us are tech maintenance manuals,
empty of basic theory.</p>

<p>"The last banned category you
know about&mdash;medicine. This is the
one thing I cannot understand, that
makes me burn with hatred with
every death they might have prevented."</p>

<p>"I know their reasons," Jason
said.</p>

<p>"Then tell me, because I can think
of none."</p>

<p>"Survival&mdash;it's just that simple. I
doubt if you realize it, but they have
a decreasing population. It is just a
matter of years before they will be
gone. Whereas your people at least
must have a stable&mdash;if not slightly
growing population&mdash;to have existed
without their mechanical protections.
So in the city they hate you
and are jealous of you at the same
time. If they gave you medicine and
you prospered, you would be winning
the battle they have lost. I
imagine they tolerate you as a necessary
evil, to supply them with food,
otherwise they wish you were all
dead."</p>

<p>"It makes sense," Rhes growled,
slamming his fist against the bed.
"The kind of twisted logic you expect
from junkmen. They use us to
feed them, give us the absolute minimum
in return, and at the same time
cut us off from the knowledge that
will get us out of this hand to mouth
existence. Worse, far worse, they cut
us off from the stars and the rest of
mankind." The hatred on his face
was so strong that Jason unconsciously
drew back.</p>

<p>"Do you think we are savages
here, Jason? We act and look like
animals because we have to fight for
existence on an animal level. Yet we
know about the stars. In that chest
over there, sealed in metal, are over
thirty books, all we have. Fiction
most of them, with some history and
general science thrown in. Enough
to keep alive the stories of the settlement
here and the rest of the universe
outside. We see the ships land
in the city and we know that up
there are worlds we can only dream
about and never see. Do you wonder
that we hate these beasts that call
themselves men, and would destroy
them in an instant if we could?
They are right to keep weapons
from us&mdash;for sure as the sun rises
in the morning we would kill them
to a man if we were able, and take
over the things they have withheld
from us."</p>

<hr />

<p>It was a harsh condemnation, but
essentially a truthful one. At least
from the point of view of the outsiders.
Jason didn't try to explain to
the angry man that the city Pyrrans
looked on their attitude as being the
only possible and logical one. "How
did this battle between your two
groups ever come about?" he asked.</p>

<p>"I don't know," Rhes said, "I've
thought about it many times, but
there are no records of that period.
We do know that we are all descended
from colonists who arrived
at the same time. Somewhere, at
some time, the two groups separated.
Perhaps it was a war, I've read about
them in the books. I have a partial
theory, though I can't prove it, that
it was the location of the city."</p>

<p>"Location&mdash;I don't understand."</p>

<p>"Well, you know the junkmen,
and you've seen where their city is.
They managed to put it right in the
middle of the most savage spot on
this planet. You know they don't
care about any living thing except
themselves, shoot and kill is their
only logic. So they wouldn't consider
where to build their city, and managed
to build it in the stupidest spot
imaginable. I'm sure my ancestors
saw how foolish this was and tried
to tell them so. That would be reason
enough for a war, wouldn't it?"</p>

<p>"It might have been&mdash;if that's
really what happened," Jason said.
"But I think you have the problem
turned backwards. It's a war between
native Pyrran life and humans,
each fighting to destroy the
other. The life forms change continually,
seeking that final destruction
of the invader."</p>

<p>"Your theory is even wilder than
mine," Rhes said. "That's not true
at all. I admit that life isn't too easy
on this planet ... if what I have
read in the books about other planets
is true ... but it doesn't change.
You have to be fast on your feet and
keep your eyes open for anything
bigger than you, but you can survive.
Anyway, it doesn't really matter
why. The junkmen always look for
trouble and I'm happy to see that
they have enough."</p>

<p>Jason didn't try to press the point.
The effort of forcing Rhes to change
his basic attitudes wasn't worth it&mdash;even
if possible. He hadn't succeeded
in convincing anyone in the city
of the lethal mutations even when
they could observe all the facts. Rhes
could still supply information
though.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 525px;"><img src="images/014.png" width="525" height="215" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>"I suppose it's not important who
started the battle," Jason said for the
other man's benefit, not meaning a
word of it, "but you'll have to agree
that the city people are permanently
at war with all the local life. Your
people, though, have managed to befriend
at least two species that I have
seen. Do you have any idea how this
was done?"</p>

<p>"Naxa will be here in a minute,"
Rhes said, pointing to the door, "as
soon as he's taken care of the animals.
Ask him. He's the best talker
we have."</p>

<p>"Talker?" Jason asked. "I had
the opposite idea about him. He
didn't talk much, and what he did
say was, well ... a little hard to
understand at times."</p>

<p>"Not that kind of talking." Rhes
broke in impatiently. "The talkers
look after the animals. They train
the dogs and doryms, and the better
ones like Naxa are always trying to
work with other beasts. They dress
crudely, but they have to. I've heard
them say that the animals don't like
chemicals, metal or tanned leather,
so they wear untanned furs for the
most part. But don't let the dirt fool
you, it has nothing to do with his
intelligence."</p>

<p>"Doryms? Are those your carrying
beasts&mdash;the kind we rode coming
here?"</p>

<p>Rhes nodded. "Doryms are more
than pack animals, they're really a
little bit of everything. The large
males pull the ploughs and other machines,
while the younger animals
are used for meat. If you want to
know more, ask Naxa, you'll find
him in the barn."</p>

<p>"I'd like to do that," Jason said,
standing up. "Only I feel undressed
without my gun&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Take it, by all means, it's in that
chest by the door. Only watch out
what you shoot around here."</p>

<hr />

<p>Naxa was in the rear of the barn,
filing down one of the spadelike toenails
of a dorym. It was a strange
scene. The fur-dressed man with the
great beast&mdash;and the contrast of a
beryllium-copper file and electroluminescent
plates lighting the
work.</p>

<p>The dorym opened its nostrils
and pulled away when Jason entered;
Naxa patted its neck and talked
softly until it quieted and stood
still, shivering slightly.</p>

<p>Something stirred in Jason's
mind, with the feeling of a long unused
muscle being stressed. A hauntingly
familiar sensation.</p>

<p>"Good morning," Jason said.
Naxa grunted something and went
back to his filing. Watching him for
a few minutes, Jason tried to analyze
this new feeling. It itched and slipped
aside when he reached for it,
escaping him. Whatever it was, it
had started when Naxa had talked
to the dorym.</p>

<p>"Could you call one of the dogs
in here, Naxa? I'd like to see one
closer up."</p>

<p>Without raising his head from his
work, Naxa gave a low whistle. Jason
was sure it couldn't have been
heard outside of the barn. Yet within
a minute one of the Pyrran dogs
slipped quietly in. The talker rubbed
the beast's head, mumbling to it,
while the animal looked intently into
his eyes.</p>

<p>The dog became restless when
Naxa turned back to work on the
dorym. It prowled around the barn,
sniffing, then moved quickly towards
the open door. Jason called it back.</p>

<p>At least he meant to call it. At the
last moment he said nothing. Nothing
aloud. On sudden impulse he
kept his mouth closed&mdash;only he called
the dog with his mind. Thinking
the words <i>come here</i>, directing the
impulse at the animal with all the
force and direction he had ever used
to manipulate dice. As he did it he
realized it had been a long time since
he had even considered using his psi
powers.</p>

<p>The dog stopped and turned back
towards him.</p>

<p>It hesitated, looking at Naxa, then
walked over to Jason.</p>

<p>Seen this closely the beast was a
nightmare hound. The hairless protective
plates, tiny red-rimmed eyes,
and countless, saliva-dripping teeth
did little to inspire confidence. Yet
Jason felt no fear. There was a rapport
between man and animal that
was understood. Without conscious
thought he reached out and scratched
the dog along the back, where he
knew it itched.</p>

<p>"Didn't know y're a talker," Naxa
said. As he watched them, there was
friendship in his voice for the first
time.</p>

<p>"I didn't know either&mdash;until just
now," Jason said. He looked into
the eyes of the animal before him,
scratched the ridged and ugly back,
and began to understand.</p>

<p>The talkers must have well developed
psi facilities, that was obvious
now. There is no barrier of race or
alien form when two creatures share
each other's emotions. Empathy first,
so there would be no hatred or fear.
After that direct communication. The
talkers might have been the ones who
first broke through the barrier of
hatred on Pyrrus and learned to live
with the native life. Others could
have followed their example&mdash;this
might explain how the community of
"grubbers" had been formed.</p>

<p>Now that he was concentrating on
it, Jason was aware of the soft flow
of thoughts around him. The consciousness
of the dorym was matched
by other like patterns from the rear
of the barn. He knew without going
outside that more of the big beasts
were in the field back there.</p>

<p>"This is all new to me," Jason
said. "Have you ever thought about
it, Naxa? What does it feel like to
be a talker? I mean, do you <i>know</i>
why it is you can get the animals to
obey you while other people have no
luck at all?"</p>

<p>Thinking of this sort troubled
Naxa. He ran his fingers through his
thick hair and scowled as he answered.
"Nev'r thought about it. Just
do it. Just get t'know the beast real
good, then y'can guess what they're
going t'do. That's all."</p>

<p>It was obvious that Naxa had
never thought about the origin of his
ability to control the animals. And if
he hadn't&mdash;probably no one else had.
They had no reason to. They simply
accepted the powers of talkers as
one of the facts of life.</p>

<p>Ideas slipped towards each other
in his mind, like the pieces of a
puzzle joining together. He had told
Kerk that the native life of Pyrrus
had joined in battle against mankind,
he didn't know why. Well&mdash;he
still didn't know why, but he was
getting an idea of the "how."</p>

<p>"About how far are we from the
city?" Jason asked. "Do you have an
idea how long it would take us to
get there by dorym?"</p>

<p>"Half a day there&mdash;half back.
Why? Y'want to go?"</p>

<p>"I don't want to get into the city,
not yet. But I would like to get close
to it," Jason told him.</p>

<p>"See what Rhes say," was Naxa's
answer.</p>

<hr />

<p>Rhes granted instant permission
without asking any questions. They
saddled up and left at once, in order
to complete the round trip before
dark.</p>

<p>They had been traveling less than
an hour before Jason knew they were
going in the direction of the city.
With each minute the feeling grew
stronger. Naxa was aware of it too,
stirring in the saddle with unvoiced
feelings. They had to keep touching
and reassuring their mounts which
were growing skittish and restless.</p>

<p>"This is far enough," Jason said.
Naxa gratefully pulled to a stop.</p>

<p>The wordless thought beat through
Jason's mind, filling it. He could feel
it on all sides&mdash;only much stronger
ahead of them in the direction of
the unseen city. Naxa and the doryms
reacted in the same way, restlessly
uncomfortable, not knowing the
cause.</p>

<p>One thing was obvious now. The
Pyrran animals were sensitive to psi
radiation&mdash;probably the plants and
lower life forms as well. Perhaps they
communicated by it, since they obeyed
the men who had a strong control
of it. And in this area was a wash
of psi radiation such as he had never
experienced before. Though his personal
talents specialized in psychokinesis&mdash;the
mental control of inanimate
matter&mdash;he was still sensitive to
most mental phenomena. Watching a
sports event he had many times
felt the unanimous accord of many
minds expressing the same thought.
What he felt now was like that.</p>

<p>Only terribly different. A crowd
exulted at some success on the field,
or groaned at a failure. The feeling
fluxed and changed as the game progressed.
Here the wash of thought
was unending, strong and frightening.
It didn't translate into words
very well. It was part hatred, part
fear&mdash;and all destruction.</p>

<p>"<i>KILL THE ENEMY</i>" was as
close as Jason could express it. But
it was more than that. An unending
river of mental outrage and death.</p>

<p>"Let's go back now," he said, suddenly
battered and sickened by the
feelings he had let wash through
him. As they started the return trip
he began to understand many things.</p>

<p>His sudden unspeakable fear when
the Pyrran animal had attacked him
that first day on the planet. And his
recurrent nightmares that had never
completely ceased, even with drugs.
Both of these were his reaction to
the hatred directed at the city.
Though for some reason he hadn't
felt it directly up to now, enough
had reached through to him to get
a strong emotional reaction.</p>

<p>Rhes was asleep when they got
back and Jason couldn't talk to him
until morning. In spite of his fatigue
from the trip, he stayed awake late
into the night, going over in his
mind the discoveries of the day.
Could he tell Rhes what he had
found out? Not very well. If he did
that, he would have to explain the
importance of his discovery and what
he meant to use it for. Nothing that
aided the city dwellers would appeal
to Rhes in the slightest. Best to say
nothing until the entire affair was
over.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XVIII.</h2>

<p>After breakfast he told Rhes that
he wanted to return to the city.</p>

<p>"Then you have seen enough of
our barbarian world, and wish to go
back to your friends. To help them
wipe us out perhaps?" Rhes said it
lightly, but there was a touch of cold
malice behind his words.</p>

<p>"I hope you don't really think
that," Jason told him. "You must
realize that the opposite is true. I
would like to see this civil war ended
and your people getting all the benefits
of science and medicine that have
been withheld. I'll do everything I
can to bring that about."</p>

<p>"They'll never change," Rhes said
gloomily, "so don't waste your time.
But there is one thing you must do,
for your protection and ours. Don't
admit, or even hint, that you've talked
to any grubbers!"</p>

<p>"Why not?"</p>

<p>"Why not! Suffering death are you
that simple! They will do anything
to see that we don't rise too high,
and would much prefer to see us all
dead. Do you think they would hesitate
to kill you if they as much as
suspected you had contacted us? They
realize&mdash;even if you don't&mdash;that you
can singlehandedly alter the entire
pattern of power on this planet. The
ordinary junkman may think of us
as being only one step above the
animals, but the leaders don't. They
know what we need and what we
want. They could probably guess just
what it is I am going to ask you.</p>

<p>"Help us, Jason dinAlt. Get back
among those human pigs and lie. Say
you never talked to us, that you hid
in the forest and we attacked you
and you had to shoot to save yourself.
We'll supply some recent
corpses to make that part of your
story sound good. Make them believe
you, and even after you think you
have them convinced keep on acting
the part because they will be watching
you. Then tell them you have
finished your work and are ready to
leave. Get safely off Pyrrus, to another
planet, and I promise you anything
in the universe. Whatever you
want you shall have. Power, money&mdash;<i>anything</i>.</p>

<p>"This is a rich planet. The junkmen
mine and sell the metal, but we
could do it much better. Bring a
spaceship back here and land anywhere
on this continent. We have no
cities, but our people have farms
everywhere, they will find you. We
will then have commerce, trade&mdash;on
our own. This is what we all want
and we will work hard for it. And
<i>you</i> will have done it. Whatever you
want we will give. That is a promise
and we do not break our promises."</p>

<p>The intensity and magnitude of
what he described rocked Jason. He
knew that Rhes spoke the truth and
the entire resources of the planet
would be his, if he did as asked. For
one second he was tempted, savoring
the thought of what it would be like.
Then came realization that it would
be a half answer, and a poor one at
that. If these people had the strength
they wanted, their first act would be
the attempted destruction of the city
men. The result would be bloody
civil war that would probably destroy
them both. Rhes' answer was a good
one&mdash;but only half an answer.</p>

<p>Jason had to find a better solution.
One that would stop <i>all</i> the fighting
on this planet and allow the two
groups of humans to live in peace.</p>

<p>"I will do nothing to injure your
people, Rhes&mdash;and everything in my
power to aid them," Jason said.</p>

<p>This half answer satisfied Rhes,
who could see only one interpretation
of it. He spent the rest of the morning
on the communicator, arranging
for the food supplies that were being
brought to the trading site.</p>

<p>"The supplies are ready and we
have sent the signal," he said. "The
truck will be there tomorrow and you
will be waiting for it. Everything is
arranged as I told you. You'll leave
now with Naxa. You must reach the
meeting spot before the trucks."</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XIX.</h2>

<p>"Trucks almost here. Y'know what
to do?" Naxa asked.</p>

<p>Jason nodded, and looked again
at the dead man. Some beast had torn
his arm off and he had bled to death.
The severed arm had been tied into
the shirt sleeve, so from a distance
it looked normal. Seen close up this
limp arm, plus the white skin and
shocked expression on the face, gave
Jason an unhappy sensation. He liked
to see his corpses safely buried. However
he could understand its importance
today.</p>

<p>"Here they're. Wait until his
back's turned," Naxa whispered.</p>

<p>The armored truck had three powered
trailers in tow this time. The
train ground up the rock slope and
whined to a stop. Krannon climbed
out of the cab and looked carefully
around before opening up the trailers.
He had a lift robot along to help
him with the loading.</p>

<p>"Now!" Naxa hissed.</p>

<p>Jason burst into the clearing, running,
shouting Krannon's name. There
was a crackling behind him as two
of the hidden men hurled the corpse
through the foliage after him. He
turned and fired without stopping,
setting the thing afire in midair.</p>

<p>There was the crack of another
gun as Krannon fired, his shot jarred
the twice-dead corpse before it hit the
ground. Then he was lying prone,
firing into the trees behind the running
Jason.</p>

<p>Just as Jason reached the truck
there was a whirring in the air and
hot pain ripped into his back, throwing
him to the ground. He looked
around as Krannon dragged him
through the door, and saw the metal
shaft of a crossbow bolt sticking out
of his shoulder.</p>

<p>"Lucky," the Pyrran said. "An
inch lower would have got your
heart. I warned you about those grubbers.
You're lucky to get off with
only this." He lay next to the door
and snapped shots into the now quiet
wood.</p>

<p>Taking out the bolt hurt much
more than it had going in. Jason
cursed the pain as Krannon put on
a dressing, and admired the singleness
of purpose of the people who
had shot him. They had risked his
life to make his escape look real.
And also risked the chance that he
might turn against them after being
shot. They did a job completely and
thoroughly and he cursed them for
their efficiency.</p>

<p>Krannon climbed warily out of the
truck, after Jason was bandaged. Finishing
the loading quickly, he started
the train of trailers back towards the
city. Jason had an anti-pain shot and
dozed off as soon as they started.</p>

<hr />

<p>While he slept, Krannon must
have radioed ahead, because Kerk
was waiting when they arrived. As
soon as the truck entered the perimeter
he threw open the door and
dragged Jason out. The bandage pulled
and Jason felt the wound tear
open. He ground his teeth together;
Kerk would not have the satisfaction
of hearing him cry out.</p>

<p>"I told you to stay in the buildings
until the ship left. Why did you
leave? Why did you go outside? You
talked to the grubbers&mdash;didn't you?"
With each question he shook Jason
again.</p>

<p>"I didn't talk to&mdash;anyone." Jason
managed to get the words out. "They
tried to take me, I shot two&mdash;hid out
until the trucks came back."</p>

<p>"Got another one then," Krannon
said. "I saw it. Good shooting. Think
I got some, too. Let him go Kerk,
they shot him in the back before he
could reach the truck."</p>

<p><i>That's enough explanations</i>, Jason
thought to himself. <i>Don't overdo it.
Let him make up his mind later.
Now's the time to change the subject.
There's one thing that will get
his mind off the grubbers.</i></p>

<p>"I've been fighting your war for
you Kerk, while you stayed safely inside
the perimeter." Jason leaned
back against the side of the truck as
the other loosened his grip. "I've
found out what your battle with this
planet is really about&mdash;and how you
can win it. Now let me sit down and
I'll tell you."</p>

<p>More Pyrrans had come up while
they talked. None of them moved
now. Like Kerk, they stood frozen,
looking at Jason. When Kerk talked,
he spoke for all of them.</p>

<p>"<i>What do you mean?</i>"</p>

<p>"Just what I said. Pyrrus is fighting
you&mdash;actively and consciously.
Get far enough out from this city
and you can feel the waves of hatred
that are directed at it. No, that's
wrong&mdash;you can't because you've
grown up with it. But I can, and so
could anyone else with any sort of
psi sensitivity. There is a message of
war being beamed against you constantly.
The life forms of this planet
are psi-sensitive, and respond to that
order. They attack and change and
mutate for your destruction. And
they'll keep on doing so until you
are all dead. Unless you can stop the
war."</p>

<p>"How?" Kerk snapped the word
and every face echoed the question.</p>

<p>"By finding whoever or whatever
is sending that message. The life
forms that attack you have no reasoning
intelligence. They are being
ordered to do so. I think I know how
to find the source of these orders.
After that it will be a matter of getting
across a message, asking for a
truce and an eventual end to all hostilities."</p>

<p>A dead silence followed his words
as the Pyrrans tried to comprehend
the ideas. Kerk moved first, waving
them all away.</p>

<p>"Go back to your work. This is my
responsibility and I'll take care of it.
As soon as I find out what truth
there is here&mdash;if any&mdash;I'll make a
complete report." The people drifted
away silently, looking back as they
went.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 525px;"><img src="images/015.png" width="525" height="212" alt="" title="" /></div>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XX.</h2>

<div class="figcap"><img src="images/016.png" width="45" height="45" alt="F" title="F" /></div>
<p class="firstp"><span class="dcap">rom</span> the beginning
now," Kerk said. "And
leave out nothing."</p>

<p>"There is very little
more that I can add to
the physical facts. I saw the animals,
understood the message. I even experimented
with some of them and
they reacted to my mental commands.
What I must do now is track
down the source of the orders that
keep this war going.</p>

<p>"I'll tell you something that I
have never told anyone else. I'm not
only lucky at gambling. I have
enough psi ability to alter probability
in my favor. It's an erratic ability
that I have tried to improve for obvious
reasons. During the past ten
years I managed to study at all of
the centers that do psi research.
Compared to other fields of knowledge
it is amazing how little they
know. Basic psi talents can be improved
by practice, and some machines
have been devised that act as
psionic amplifiers. One of these,
used correctly, is a very good directional
indicator."</p>

<p>"You want to build this machine?"
Kerk asked.</p>

<p>"Exactly. Build it and take it outside
the city in the ship. Any signal
strong enough to keep this centuries-old
battle going should be strong
enough to track down. I'll follow it,
contact the creatures who are sending
it, and try to find out why they are
doing it. I assume you'll go along
with any reasonable plan that will
end this war?"</p>

<p>"Anything reasonable," Kerk said
coldly. "How long will it take you
to build this machine?"</p>

<p>"Just a few days if you have all
the parts here," Jason told him.</p>

<p>"Then do it. I'm canceling the
flight that's leaving now and I'll keep
the ship here, ready to go. When
the machine is built I want you to
track the signal and report back to
me."</p>

<p>"Agreed," Jason said, standing
up. "As soon as I have this hole in
my back looked at I'll draw up a list
of things needed."</p>

<p>A grim, unsmiling man named
Skop was assigned to Jason as a combination
guide and guard. He took
his job very seriously, and it didn't
take Jason long to realize that he
was a prisoner-at-large. Kerk had accepted
his story, but that was no
guarantee that he believed it. At a
single word from him, the guard
could turn executioner.</p>

<p>The chill thought hit Jason that
undoubtedly this was what would
happen. Whether Kerk accepted the
story or not&mdash;he couldn't afford to
take a chance. As long as there was
the slightest possibility Jason had
contacted the grubbers, he could not
be allowed to leave the planet alive.
The woods people were being simple
if they thought a plan this obvious
might succeed. Or had they just
gambled on the very long chance it
might work? <i>They</i> certainly had
nothing to lose by it.</p>

<p>Only half of Jason's mind was occupied
with the work as he drew up
a list of materials he would need for
the psionic direction finder. His
thoughts plodded in tight circles,
searching for a way out that didn't
exist. He was too deeply involved
now to just leave. Kerk would see
to that. Unless he could find a way
to end the war and settle the grubber
question he was marooned on
Pyrrus for life. A very short life.</p>

<p>When the list was ready he called
Supply. With a few substitutions,
everything he might possibly need
was in stock, and would be sent
over. Skop sank into an apparent
doze in his chair and Jason, his head
propped against the pull of gravity
by one arm, began a working sketch
of his machine.</p>

<p>Jason looked up suddenly, aware
of the silence. He could hear machinery
in the building and voices
in the hall outside. What kind of
silence then&mdash;?</p>

<p>Mental silence. He had been so
preoccupied since his return to the
city that he hadn't noticed the complete
lack of any kind of psi sensation.
The constant wash of animal
reactions was missing, as was the
vague tactile awareness of his PK.
With sudden realization he remembered
that it was always this way
inside the city.</p>

<p>He tried to listen with his mind&mdash;and
stopped almost before he began.
There was a constant press of
thought about him that he was made
aware of when he reached out. It
was like being in a vessel far beneath
the ocean, with your hand on
the door that held back the frightening
pressure. Touching the door,
without opening it, you could feel
the stresses, the power pushing in
and waiting to crush you. It was this
way with the psi pressure on the
city. The unvoiced hate-filled
screams of Pyrrus would instantly
destroy any mind that received them.
Some function of his brain acted as
a psi-circuit breaker, shutting off
awareness before his mind could be
blasted. There was just enough leak-through
to keep him aware of the
pressure&mdash;and supply the raw materials
for his constant nightmares.</p>

<p>There was only one fringe benefit.
The lack of thought pressure made
it easier for him to concentrate. In
spite of his fatigue the diagram developed
swiftly.</p>

<hr />

<p>Meta arrived late that afternoon,
bringing the parts he had ordered.
She slid the long box onto the workbench,
started to speak, but changed
her mind and said nothing. Jason
looked up at her and smiled.</p>

<p>"Confused?" he asked.</p>

<p>"I don't know what you mean,"
she said, "I'm not confused. Just
annoyed. The regular trip has been
canceled and our supply schedule will
be thrown off for months to come.
And instead of piloting or perimeter
assignment all I can do is stand
around and wait for you. Then take
some silly flight following your directions.
Do you wonder that I'm
annoyed?"</p>

<p>Jason carefully set the parts out
on the chassis before he spoke. "As I
said, you're confused. I can point out
how you're confused&mdash;which will
make you even more confused. A
temptation that I frankly find hard
to resist."</p>

<p>She looked across the bench at
him, frowning. One finger unconsciously
curling and uncurling a
short lock of hair. Jason liked her
this way. As a Pyrran operating at
full blast she had as much personality
as a gear in a machine. Once
out of that pattern she reminded
him more of the girl he had known
on that first flight to Pyrrus. He wondered
if it was possible to really get
across to her what he meant.</p>

<p>"I'm not being insulting when I
say 'confused,' Meta. With your
background you couldn't be any other
way. You have an insular personality.
Admittedly, Pyrrus is an unusual
island with a lot of high-power
problems that you are an expert
at solving. That doesn't make it any
less of an island. When you face a
cosmopolitan problem you are confused.
Or even worse, when your island
problems are put into a bigger
context. That's like playing your own
game, only having the rules change
constantly as you go along."</p>

<p>"You're talking nonsense," she
snapped at him. "Pyrrus isn't an island
and battling for survival is
definitely not a game."</p>

<p>"I'm sorry," he smiled. "I was
using a figure of speech, and a badly
chosen one at that. Let's put the
problem on more concrete terms.
Take an example. Suppose I were
to tell you that over there, hanging
from the doorframe, was a stingwing&mdash;"</p>

<p>Meta's gun was pointing at the
door before he finished the last word.
There was a crash as the guard's
chair went over. He had jumped
from a half-doze to full alertness in
an instant, his gun also searching the
doorframe.</p>

<p>"That was just an example," Jason
said. "There's really nothing
there." The guard's gun vanished
and he scowled a look of contempt
at Jason, as he righted the chair and
dropped into it.</p>

<p>"You both have proved yourself
capable of handling a Pyrran problem."
Jason continued. "But what if
I said that there is a thing hanging
from the doorframe that <i>looks</i> like
a stingwing, but is really a kind of
large insect that spins a fine silk that
can be used to weave clothes?"</p>

<p>The guard glared from under his
thick eyebrows at the empty doorframe,
his gun whined part way out,
then snapped back into the holster.
He growled something inaudible at
Jason, then stamped into the outer
room, slamming the door behind
him. Meta frowned in concentration
and looked puzzled.</p>

<p>"It couldn't be anything except a
stingwing," she finally said. "Nothing
else could possibly look like that.
And even if it didn't spin silk, it
would bite if you got near, so you
would have to kill it." She smiled
with satisfaction at the indestructible
logic of her answer.</p>

<p>"Wrong again," Jason said. "I
just described the mimic-spinner
that lives on Stover's Planet. It imitates
the most violent forms of life
there, does such a good job that it
has no need for other defenses. It'll
sit quietly on your hand and spin
for you by the yard. If I dropped a
shipload of them here on Pyrrus,
you never could be sure when to
shoot, could you?"</p>

<p>"But they are not here now," Meta
insisted.</p>

<p>"Yet they could be quite easily.
And if they were, all the rules of
your game would change. Getting
the idea now? There are some fixed
laws and rules in the galaxy&mdash;but
they're not the ones you live by.
Your rule is war unending with the
local life. I want to step outside your
rule book and end that war. Wouldn't
you like that? Wouldn't you like
an existence that was more than just
an endless battle for survival? A life
with a chance for happiness, love,
music, art&mdash;all the enjoyable things
you have never had the time for."</p>

<p>All the Pyrran sternness was gone
from her face as she listened to what
he said, letting herself follow these
alien concepts. He had put his hand
out automatically as he talked, and
had taken hers. It was warm and
her pulse fast to his touch.</p>

<p>Meta suddenly became conscious
of his hand and snapped hers away,
rising to her feet at the same time.
As she started blindly towards the
door, Jason's voice snapped after
her.</p>

<p>"The guard, Skop, ran out because
he didn't want to lose his precious
two-value logic. It's all he has. But
you've seen other parts of the galaxy,
Meta, you know there is a lot
more to life than kill-and-be-killed
on Pyrrus. You feel it is true, even
if you won't admit it."</p>

<p>She turned and ran out the door.</p>

<p>Jason looked after her, his hand
scraping the bristle on his chin
thoughtfully. "Meta, I have the faint
hope that the woman is winning
over the Pyrran. I think that I saw&mdash;perhaps
for the first time in the
history of this bloody war-torn city&mdash;a
tear in one of its citizen's eyes."</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XXI.</h2>

<p>"Drop that equipment and Kerk
will undoubtedly pull both your
arms off," Jason said. "He's over
there now, looking as sorry as possible
that I ever talked him into
this."</p>

<p>Skop cursed under the bulky mass
of the psi detector, passing it up to
Meta who waited in the open port
of the spaceship. Jason supervised
the loading, and blasted all the local
life that came to investigate.
Horndevils were thick this morning
and he shot four of them. He was
last aboard and closed the lock behind
him.</p>

<p>"Where are you going to install
it?" Meta asked.</p>

<p>"You tell me," Jason said. "I need
a spot for the antenna where there
will be no dense metal in front of
the bowl to interfere with the signal.
Thin plastic will do, or if worst
comes to worst I can mount it
outside the hull with a remote
drive."</p>

<p>"You may have to," she said. "The
hull is an unbroken unit, we do all
viewing by screen and instruments.
I don't think ... wait ... there is
one place that might do."</p>

<p>She led the way to a bulge in the
hull that marked one of the lifeboats.
They went in through the always-open
lock, Skop struggling after
them with the apparatus.</p>

<p>"These lifeboats are half buried
in the ship," Meta explained. "They
have transparent front ports covered
by friction shields that withdraw automatically
when the boat is launched."</p>

<p>"Can we pull back the shields
now?"</p>

<p>"I think so," she said. She traced
the launching circuits to a junction
box and opened the lid. When she
closed the shield relay manually, the
heavy plates slipped back into the
hull. There was a clear view, since
most of the viewport projected beyond
the parent ship.</p>

<p>"Perfect," Jason said. "I'll set up
here. Now how do I talk to you in
the ship?"</p>

<p>"Right here," she said. "There's a
pre-tuned setting on this communicator.
Don't touch anything else&mdash;and
particularly not this switch." She
pointed to a large pull-handle set
square into the center of the control
board. "Emergency launching. Two
seconds after that is pulled the lifeboat
is shot free. And it so happens
this boat has no fuel."</p>

<p>"Hands off for sure," Jason said.
"Now have Husky there run me in
a line with ship's power and I'll get
this stuff set up."</p>

<p>The detector was simple, though
the tuning had to be precise. A dish-shaped
antenna pulled in the signal
for the delicately balanced detector.
There was a sharp fall-off on both
sides of the input so direction could
be precisely determined. The resulting
signal was fed to an amplifier
stage. Unlike the electronic components
of the first stage, this one was
drawn in symbols on white paper.
Carefully glued-on input and output
leads ran to it.</p>

<p>When everything was ready and
clamped into place, Jason nodded to
Meta's image on the screen. "Take
her up&mdash;and easy please. None of
your nine-G specials. Go into a slow
circle around the perimeter, until I
tell you differently."</p>

<hr />

<p>Under steady power the ship lifted
and grabbed for altitude, then
eased into its circular course. They
made five circuits of the city before
Jason shook his head.</p>

<p>"The thing seems to be working
fine, but we're getting too much
noise from all the local life. Get
thirty kilometers out from the city
and start a new circuit."</p>

<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/017.png" width="350" height="214" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>The results were better this time.
A powerful signal came from the
direction of the city, confined to less
than a degree of arc. With the antenna
fixed at a right angle to the
direction of the ship's flight, the signal
was fairly constant. Meta rotated
the ship on its main axis, until Jason's
lifeboat was directly below.</p>

<p>"Going fine now," he said. "Just
hold your controls as they are and
keep the nose from drifting."</p>

<p>After making a careful mark on
the setting circle, Jason turned the
receiving antenna through one hundred
eighty degrees of arc. As the
ship kept to its circle, he made a
slow collecting sweep of any signals
beamed at the city. They were halfway
around before he got a new
signal.</p>

<p>It was there all right, narrow but
strong. Just to be sure he let the
ship complete two more sweeps, and
he noted the direction on the gyro-compass
each time. They coincided.
The third time around he called to
Meta.</p>

<p>"Get ready for a full right turn,
or whatever you call it. I think I
have our bearing. Get ready&mdash;<i>now</i>."</p>

<p>It was a slow turn and Jason never
lost the signal. A few times it
wavered, but he brought it back on.
When the compass settled down
Meta pushed on more power.</p>

<p>They set their course towards the
native Pyrrans.</p>

<p>An hour's flight at close to top
atmospheric speed brought no
change. Meta complained, but Jason
kept her on course. The signal never
varied and was slowly picking up
strength. They crossed the chain of
volcanoes that marked the continental
limits, the ship bucking in the
fierce thermals. Once the shore was
behind and they were over water,
Skop joined Meta in grumbling. He
kept his turret spinning, but there
was very little to shoot at this far
from land.</p>

<p>When the islands came over the
horizon the signal began to dip.</p>

<p>"Slow now," Jason called. "Those
islands ahead look like our source!"</p>

<p>A continent had been here once,
floating on Pyrrus' liquid core. Pressures
changed, land masses shifted,
and the continent had sunk beneath
the ocean. All that was left now of
the teeming life of that land mass
was confined to a chain of islands,
once the mountain peaks of the highest
range of mountains. These islands,
whose sheer, sides rose straight
from the water, held the last inhabitants
of the lost continent. The
weeded-out descendants, of the victors
of uncountable violent contests.
Here lived the oldest native Pyrrans.</p>

<p>"Come in lower," Jason signaled.
"Towards that large peak. The signals
seem to originate there."</p>

<p>They swooped low over the mountain,
but nothing was visible other
than the trees and sun-blasted rock.</p>

<p>The pain almost took Jason's head
off. A blast of hatred that drove
through the amplifier and into his
skull. He tore off the phones, and
clutched his skull between his hands.
Through watering eyes he saw the
black cloud of flying beasts hurtle up
from the trees below. He had a single
glimpse of the hillside beyond,
before Meta blasted power to the
engines and the ship leaped away.</p>

<p>"We've found them!" Her fierce
exultation faded as she saw Jason
through the communicator. "Are you
all right? What happened?"</p>

<p>"Feel ... burned out ... I've
felt a psi blast before, but nothing
like that! I had a glimpse of an
opening, looked like a cave mouth,
just before the blast hit. Seemed to
come from there."</p>

<p>"Lie down," Meta said. "I'll get
you back as fast as I can. I'm calling
ahead to Kerk, he has to know what
happened."</p>

<hr />

<p>A group of men were waiting in
the landing station when they came
down. They stormed out as soon as
the ship touched, shielding their
faces from the still-hot tubes. Kerk
burst in as soon as the port was
cracked, peering around until he
spotted Jason stretched out on an
acceleration couch.</p>

<p>"Is it true?" he barked. "You've
traced the alien criminals who started
this war?"</p>

<p>"Slow, man, slow," Jason said.
"I've traced the source of the psi
message that keeps your war going.
I've found no evidence as to who
started this war, and certainly wouldn't
go so far as to call them criminals&mdash;"</p>

<p>"I'm tired of your word-play,"
Kerk broke in. "You've found these
creatures and their location has been
marked."</p>

<p>"On the chart," Meta said, "I
could fly there blindfolded."</p>

<p>"Fine, fine," Kerk said, rubbing
his hands together so hard they
could hear the harsh rasp of the
callouses. "It takes a real effort to
grasp the idea that, after all these
centuries, the war might be coming
to an end. But it's possible now. Instead
of simply killing off these self-renewing
legions of the damned that
attack us, we can get to the leaders.
Search them out, carry the war to
them for a change&mdash;and blast their
stain from the face of this planet!"</p>

<p>"Nothing of the sort!" Jason said,
sitting up with an effort. "Nothing
doing! Since I came to this planet
I have been knocked around, and
risked my life ten times over. Do
you think I have done this just to
satisfy your blood-thirsty ambitions?
It's peace I'm after&mdash;not destruction.
You promised to contact these creatures,
attempt to negotiate with
them. Aren't you a man of honor
who keeps his word?"</p>

<p>"I'll ignore the insult&mdash;though I'd
have killed you for it at any other
time," Kerk said. "You've been of
great service to our people, we are
not ashamed to acknowledge an honest
debt. At the same time&mdash;do not
accuse me of breaking promises that
I never made. I recall my exact
words. I promised to go along with
any reasonable plan that would end
this war. That is just what I intend
to do. Your plan to negotiate a peace
is not reasonable. Therefore we are
going to destroy the enemy."</p>

<p>"Think first," Jason called after
Kerk, who had turned to leave.
"What is wrong with trying negotiation
or an armistice? Then, if that
fails, you can try your way."</p>

<p>The compartment was getting
crowded as other Pyrrans pushed in.
Kerk, almost to the door, turned
back to face Jason.</p>

<p>"I'll tell you what's wrong with
armistice," he said. "It's a coward's
way out, that's what it is. It's all
right for you to suggest it, you're
from off-world and don't know any
better. But do you honestly think I
could entertain such a defeatist notion
for one instant? When I speak,
I speak not only for myself, but for
all of us here. We don't mind fighting,
and we know how to do it. We
know that if this war was over we
could build a better world here. At
the same time, if we have the choice
of continued war or a cowardly
peace&mdash;<i>we vote for war</i>. This war
will only be over when the enemy is
utterly destroyed!"</p>

<p>The listening Pyrrans shouted in
agreement, and when Kerk pushed
out through the crowd some of them
patted his shoulder as he went by.
Jason slumped back on the couch,
worn out by his exertions and exhausted
by the attempt to win the
violent Pyrrans over to a peaceful
point of view.</p>

<p>When he looked up they were
gone&mdash;all except Meta. She had the
same look of blood-thirsty elation as
the others, but it drained away when
she glanced at him.</p>

<p>"What about it, Meta?" he asked
bitterly. "No doubts? Do you think
that destruction is the only way to
end this war?"</p>

<p>"I don't know," she said. "I can't
be sure. For the first time in my life
I find myself with more than one
answer to the same question."</p>

<p>"Congratulations," he said. "It's
a sign of growing up."</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XXII.</h2>

<p>Jason stood to one side and watched
the deadly cargo being loaded
into the hold of the ship. The Pyrrans
were in good humor as they
stowed away riot guns, grenades and
gas bombs. When the back-pack
atom bomb was put aboard one of
them broke into a marching song,
and the others picked it up. Maybe
they were happy, but the approaching
carnage only filled Jason with an
intense gloom. He felt that somehow
he was a traitor to life. Perhaps
the life form he had found needed
destroying&mdash;and perhaps it didn't.
Without making the slightest attempt
at conciliation, destruction
would be plain murder.</p>

<p>Kerk came out of the operations
building and the starter pumps could
be heard whining inside the ship.
They would leave within minutes.
Jason forced himself into a foot-dragging
rush and met Kerk halfway
to the ship.</p>

<p>"I'm coming with you, Kerk. You
owe me at least that much for finding
them."</p>

<p>Kerk hesitated, not liking the idea.
"This is an operational mission," he
said. "No room for observers, and
the extra weight&mdash; And it's too late
to stop us Jason, you know that."</p>

<p>"You Pyrrans are the worst liars
in the universe," Jason said. "We
both know that ship can lift ten
times the amount it's carrying today.
Now ... do you let me come, or
forbid me without reason at all?"</p>

<p>"Get aboard," Kerk said. "But
keep out of the way or you'll get
trampled."</p>

<p>This time, with a definite destination
ahead, the flight was much faster.
Meta took the ship into the
stratosphere, in a high ballistic arc
that ended at the islands. Kerk was
in the co-pilot's seat, Jason sat behind
them where he could watch the
screens. The landing party, twenty-five
volunteers, were in the hold below
with the weapons. All the
screens in the ship were switched to
the forward viewer. They watched
the green island appear and swell,
then vanish behind the flames of the
braking rockets. Jockeying the ship
carefully, Meta brought it down on
a flat shelf near the cave mouth.</p>

<p>Jason was ready this time for the
blast of mental hatred&mdash;but it still
hurt. The gunners laughed and killed
gleefully as every animal on the island
closed in on the ship. They
were slaughtered by the thousands,
and still more came.</p>

<p>"Do you have to do this?" Jason
asked. "It's murder&mdash;carnage, just
butchering those beasts like that."</p>

<p>"Self-defense," Kerk said. "They
attack us and they get killed. What
could be simpler? Now shut up, or
I'll throw you out there with
them."</p>

<p>It was a half an hour before the
gunfire slackened. Animals still attacked
them, but the mass assaults
seemed to be over. Kerk spoke into
the intercom.</p>

<p>"Landing party away&mdash;and watch
your step. They know we're here and
will make it as hot as they can. Take
the bomb into that cave and see how
far back it runs. We can always blast
them from the air, but it'll do no
good if they're dug into solid rock.
Keep your screen open, leave the
bomb and pull back at once if I tell
you to. Now move."</p>

<hr />

<p>The men swarmed down the ladders
and formed into open battle
formation. They were soon under attack,
but the beasts were picked off
before they could get close. It didn't
take long for the man at point to
reach the cave. He had his pickup
trained in front of him, and the
watchers in the ship followed the
advance.</p>

<p>"Big cave," Kerk grunted. "Slants
back and down. What I was afraid
of. Bomb dropped on that would just
close it up. With no guarantee that
anything sealed in it, couldn't eventually
get out. We'll have to see how
far down it goes."</p>

<p>There was enough heat in the
cave now to use the infra-red filters.
The rock walls stood out harshly
black and white as the advance continued.</p>

<p>"No signs of life since entering
the cave," the officer reported.
"Gnawed bones at the entrance and
some bat droppings. It looks like a
natural cave&mdash;so far."</p>

<p>Step by step the advance continued,
slowing as it went. Insensitive
as the Pyrrans were to psi pressure,
even they were aware of the
blast of hatred being continuously
leveled at them. Jason, back in the
ship, had a headache that slowly
grew worse instead of better.</p>

<p>"<i>Watch out!</i>" Kerk shouted, staring
at the screen with horror.</p>

<p>The cave was filled from wall to
wall with pallid, eyeless animals.
They poured from tiny side passages
and seemed to literally emerge from
the ground. Their front ranks dissolved
in flame, but more kept pressing
in. On the screen the watchers
in the ship saw the cave spin dizzily
as the operator fell. Pale bodies
washed up and concealed the lens.</p>

<p>"Close ranks&mdash;flame-throwers and
gas!" Kerk bellowed into the mike.</p>

<p>Less than half of the men were
alive after that first attack. The survivors,
protected by the flame-throwers,
set off the gas grenades. Their
sealed battle armor protected them
while the section of cave filled with
gas. Someone dug through the
bodies of their attackers and found
the pickup.</p>

<p>"Leave the bomb there and withdraw,"
Kerk ordered. "We've had
enough losses already."</p>

<p>A different man stared out of the
screen. The officer was dead. "Sorry,
sir," he said, "but it will be just as
easy to push ahead as back as long
as the gas grenades hold out. We're
too close now to pull back."</p>

<p>"That's an order," Kerk shouted,
but the man was gone from the
screen and the advance continued.</p>

<p>Jason's fingers hurt where he had
them clamped to the chair arm. He
pulled them loose and massaged
them. On the screen the black and
white cave flowed steadily towards
them. Minute after minute went by
this way. Each time the animals attacked
again, a few more gas grenades
were used up.</p>

<p>"Something ahead&mdash;looks different,"
the panting voice cracked from
the speaker. The narrow cave slowly
opened out into a gigantic chamber,
so large the roof and far walls were
lost in the distance.</p>

<p>"What are those?" Kerk asked.
"Get a searchlight over to the right
there."</p>

<p>The picture on the screen was
fuzzy and hard to see now, dimmed
by the layers of rock in-between. Details
couldn't be made out clearly,
but it was obvious this was something
unusual.</p>

<p>"Never saw ... anything quite
like them before," the speaker said.
"Look like big plants of some kind,
ten meters tall at least&mdash;yet they're
moving. Those branches, tentacles or
whatever they are, keep pointing towards
us and I get the darkest feeling
in my head ..."</p>

<p>"Blast one, see what happens,"
Kerk said.</p>

<p>The gun fired and at the same instant
an intensified wave of mental
hatred rolled over the men, dropping
them to the ground. They
rolled in pain, blacked out and unable
to think or fight the underground
beasts that poured over them
in renewed attack.</p>

<p>In the ship, far above, Jason felt
the shock to his mind and wondered
how the men below could have lived
through it. The others in the control
room had been hit by it as well.
Kerk pounded on the frame of the
screen and shouted to the unhearing
men below.</p>

<p>"Pull back, come back ..."</p>

<p>It was too late. The men only
stirred slightly as the victorious Pyrran
animals washed over them,
clawing for the joints in their armor.
Only one man moved, standing up
and beating the creatures away with
his bare hands. He stumbled a few
feet and bent over the writhing mass
below him. With a heave of his
shoulders he pulled another man up.
The man was dead but his shoulder
pack was still strapped to his back.
Bloody fingers fumbled at the pack,
then both men were washed back
under the wave of death.</p>

<p>"That was the bomb!" Kerk
shouted to Meta. "If he didn't
change the setting, it's still on ten-second
minimum. Get out of here!"</p>

<hr />

<p>Jason had just time to fall back
on the acceleration couch before the
rockets blasted. The pressure leaned
on him and kept mounting. Vision
blacked out but he didn't lose consciousness.
Air screamed across the
hull, then the sound stopped as they
left the atmosphere behind.</p>

<p>Just as Meta cut the power a glare
of white light burst from the
screens. They turned black instantly
as the hull pickups burned out. She
switched filters into place, then
pressed the button that rotated new
pickups into position.</p>

<p>Far below, in the boiling sea, a
climbing cloud of mushroom-shaped
flame filled the spot where the island
had been seconds before. The three
of them looked at it, silently and
unmoving. Kerk recovered first.</p>

<p>"Head for home, Meta, and get
operations on the screen. Twenty-five
men dead, but they did their job.
They knocked out those beasts&mdash;whatever
they were&mdash;and ended the
war. I can't think of a better way
for a man to die."</p>

<p>Meta set the orbit, then called operations.</p>

<p>"Trouble getting through," she
said. "I have a robot landing beam
response, but no one is answering the
call."</p>

<p>A man appeared on the empty
screen. He was beaded with sweat
and had a harried look in his eyes.
"Kerk," he said, "is that you? Get
the ship back here at once. We need
her firepower at the perimeter. All
blazes broke loose a minute ago, a
general attack from every side, worse
than I've ever seen."</p>

<p>"What do you mean?" Kerk
stammered in unbelief. "The war is
over&mdash;we blasted them, destroyed
their headquarters completely."</p>

<p>"The war is going like it never
has gone before," the other snapped
back. "I don't know what you did,
but it stirred up the stewpot of hell
here. Now stop talking and get the
ship back!"</p>

<p>Kerk turned slowly to face Jason,
his face pulled back in a look of raw
animal savagery.</p>

<p>"You&mdash;! You did it! I should
have killed you the first time I saw
you. I wanted to, now I know I was
right. You've been like a plague
since you came here, sowing death
in every direction. I knew you were
wrong, yet I let your twisted words
convince me. And look what has happened.
First you killed Welf. Then
you murdered those men in the cave.
Now this attack on the perimeter&mdash;all
who die there, you will have
killed!"</p>

<p>Kerk advanced on Jason, step by
slow step, hatred twisting his features.
Jason backed away until he
could retreat no further, his shoulders
against the chart case. Kerk's
hand lashed out, not a fighting blow,
but an open slap. Though Jason
rolled with it, it still battered him
and stretched him full length on the
floor. His arm was against the chart
case, his fingers near the sealed tubes
that held the jump matrices.</p>

<p>Jason seized one of the heavy
tubes with both hands and pulled it
out. He swung it with all his
strength into Kerk's face. It broke
the skin on his cheekbone and forehead
and blood ran from the cuts.
But it didn't slow or stop the big
man in the slightest. His smile held
no mercy as he reached down and
dragged Jason to his feet.</p>

<p>"Fight back," he said, "I will
have that much more pleasure as I
kill you." He drew back the granite
fist that would tear Jason's head from
his shoulders.</p>

<p>"Go ahead," Jason said, and stopped
struggling. "Kill me. You can
do it easily. Only don't call it justice.
Welf died to save me. But the men
on the island died because of your
stupidity. I wanted peace and you
wanted war. Now you have it. Kill
me to soothe your conscience, because
the truth is something you
can't face up to."</p>

<p>With a bellow of rage Kerk drove
the pile-driver fist down.</p>

<p>Meta grabbed the arm in both her
hands and hung on, pulling it aside
before the blow could land. The
three of them fell together, half
crushing Jason.</p>

<p>"Don't do it," she screamed. "Jason
didn't want those men to go
down there. That was your idea. You
can't kill him for that!"</p>

<p>Kerk, exploding with rage, was
past hearing. He turned his attention
to Meta, tearing her from him.
She was a woman and her supple
strength was meager compared to his
great muscles. But she was a Pyrran
woman and she did what no off-worlder
could. She slowed him for
a moment, stopped the fury of his
attack until he could rip her hands
loose and throw her aside. It didn't
take him long to do this, but it was
just time enough for Jason to get
to the door.</p>

<hr />

<p>Jason stumbled through, and jammed
shut the lock behind him. A
split second after he had driven the
bolt home Kerk's weight plunged
into the door. The metal screamed
and bent, giving way. One hinge was
torn loose and the other held only
by a shred of metal. It would go
down on the next blow.</p>

<p>Jason wasn't waiting for that. He
hadn't stayed to see if the door would
stop the raging Pyrran. No door on
the ship could stop him. Fast as possible,
Jason went down the gangway.
There was no safety on the
ship, which meant he had to get off
it. The lifeboat deck was just ahead.</p>

<p>Ever since first seeing them, he
had given a lot of thought to the
lifeboats. Though he hadn't looked
ahead to this situation, he knew a
time might come when he would
need transportation of his own. The
lifeboats had seemed to be the best
bet, except that Meta had told him
they had no fuel. She had been right
in one thing&mdash;the boat he had been
in had empty tanks, he had checked.
There were five other boats, though,
that he hadn't examined. He had
wondered about the idea of useless
lifeboats and come to what he hoped
was a correct conclusion.</p>

<p>This spaceship was the only one
the Pyrrans had. Meta had told him
once that they always had planned
to buy another ship, but never did.
Some other necessary war expense
managed to come up first. One ship
was really enough for their uses. The
only difficulty lay in the fact they
had to keep that ship in operation
or the Pyrran city was dead. Without
supplies they would be wiped
out in a few months. Therefore the
ship's crew couldn't conceive of
abandoning their ship. No matter
what kind of trouble she got into,
they couldn't leave her. When the
ship died, so did their world.</p>

<p>With this kind of thinking, there
was no need to keep the lifeboats
fueled. Not all of them, at least.
Though it stood to reason at least
one of them held fuel for short
flights that would have been wasteful
for the parent ship. At this point Jason's
chain of logic grew weak. Too
many "ifs." <i>If</i> they used the lifeboats
at all, one of them should be
fueled. <i>If</i> they did, it would be fueled
now. And <i>if</i> it were fueled&mdash;which
one of the six would it be?
Jason had no time to go looking. He
had to be right the first time.</p>

<p>His reasoning had supplied him
with an answer, the last of a long
line of suppositions. If a boat were
fueled, it should be the one nearest
to the control cabin. The one he was
diving towards now. His life depended
on this string of guesses.</p>

<p>Behind him the door went down
with a crash. Kerk bellowed and
leaped. Jason hurled himself through
the lifeboat port with the nearest
thing to a run he could manage under
the doubled gravity. With both
hands he grabbed the emergency
launching handle and pulled down.</p>

<p>An alarm bell rang and the port
slammed shut, literally in Kerk's
face. Only his Pyrran reflexes saved
him from being smashed by it.</p>

<p>Solid-fuel launchers exploded and
blasted the lifeboat clear of the parent
ship. Their brief acceleration
slammed Jason to the deck, then he
floated as the boat went into free
fall. The main drive rockets didn't
fire.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 525px;"><img src="images/018.png" width="525" height="169" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>In that moment Jason learned
what it was like to know he was
dead. Without fuel the boat would
drop into the jungle below, falling
like a rock and blasting apart when
it hit. There was no way out.</p>

<p>Then the rockets caught, roared,
and he dropped to the deck, bruising
his nose. He sat up, rubbing it
and grinning. There was fuel in the
tanks&mdash;the delay in starting had only
been part of the launching cycle,
giving the lifeboat time to fall clear
of the ship. Now to get it under
control. He pulled himself into the
pilot's seat.</p>

<p>The altimeter had fed information
to the autopilot, leveling the boat off
parallel to the ground. Like all lifeboat
controls these were childishly
simple, designed to be used by novices
in an emergency. The autopilot
could not be shut off, it rode along
with the manual controls, tempering
foolish piloting. Jason hauled the
control wheel into a tight turn and
the autopilot gentled it to a soft
curve.</p>

<p>Through the port he could see the
big ship blaring fire in a much tighter
turn. Jason didn't know who was
flying it or what they had in mind&mdash;he
took no chances. Jamming the
wheel forward into a dive he cursed
as they eased into a gentle drop. The
larger ship had no such restrictions.
It changed course with a violent maneuver
and dived on him. The forward
turret fired and an explosion
at the stern rocked the little boat.
This either knocked out the autopilot
or shocked it into submission. The
slow drop turned into a power dive
and the jungle billowed up.</p>

<p>Jason pulled the wheel back and
there was just time to get his arms
in front of his face before they hit.</p>

<p>Thundering rockets and cracking
trees ended in a great splash. Silence
followed and the smoke drifted away.
High above, the spaceship circled
hesitantly. Dropping a bit as if
wanting to go down and investigate.
Then rising again as the urgent message
for aid came from the city. Loyalty
won and she turned and spewed
fire towards home.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XXIII.</h2>

<p>Tree branches had broken the
lifeboat's fall, the bow rockets had
burned out in emergency blast, and
the swamp had cushioned the landing
a bit. It was still a crash. The
battered cylinder sank slowly into the
stagnant water and thin mud of the
swamp. The bow was well under before
Jason managed to kick open the
emergency hatch in the waist.</p>

<p>There was no way of knowing
how long it would take for the boat
to go under, and Jason was in no
condition to ponder the situation.
Concussed and bloody, he had just
enough drive left to get himself out.
Wading and falling he made his
way to firmer land, sitting down
heavily as soon as he found something
that would support him.</p>

<p>Behind him the lifeboat burbled
and sank under the water. Bubbles
of trapped air kept rising for a
while, then stopped. The water
stilled and, except for the broken
branches and trees, there was no sign
that a ship had ever come this way.</p>

<p>Insects whined across the swamp,
and the only sound that broke the
quiet of the woods beyond was the
cruel scream of an animal pulling
down its dinner. When that had
echoed away in tiny waves of sound
everything was silent.</p>

<p>Jason pulled himself out of the
half trance with an effort. His body
felt like it had been through a meat
grinder, and it was almost impossible
to think with the fog in his head.
After minutes of deliberation he figured
out that the medikit was what
he needed. The easy-off snap was
very difficult and the button release
didn't work. He finally twisted his
arm around until it was under the
orifice and pressed the entire unit
down. It buzzed industriously,
though he couldn't feel the needles,
he guessed it had worked. His sight
spun dizzily for a while then cleared.
Pain-killers went to work and he
slowly came out of the dark cloud
that had enveloped his brain since
the crash.</p>

<p>Reason returned and loneliness
rode along with it. He was without
food, friendless, surrounded by the
hostile forces of an alien planet.
There was a rising panic that started
deep inside of him, that took concentrated
effort to hold down.</p>

<p>"Think, Jason, don't emote," he
said it aloud to reassure himself, but
was instantly sorry, because his voice
sounded weak in the emptiness, with
a ragged edge of hysteria to it.
Something caught in his throat and
he coughed to clear it, spitting out
blood. Looking at the red stain he
was suddenly angry. Hating this
deadly planet and the incredible stupidity
of the people who lived on
it. Cursing out loud was better and
his voice didn't sound as weak now.
He ended up shouting and shaking
his fist at nothing in particular, but
it helped. The anger washed away
the fear and brought him back to
reality.</p>

<p>Sitting on the ground felt good
now. The sun was warm and when
he leaned back he could almost forget
the unending burden of doubled
gravity. Anger had carried away fear,
rest erased fatigue. From somewhere
in the back of his mind there popped
up the old platitude. <i>Where
there's life, there's hope.</i> He grimaced
at the triteness of the words, at
the same time realizing that a basic
truth lurked there.</p>

<p>Count his assets. Well battered,
but still alive. None of the bruises
seemed very important, and no bones
were broken. His gun was still working,
it dipped in and out of the
power holster as he thought about
it. Pyrrans made rugged equipment.
The medikit was operating as well.
If he kept his senses, managed to
walk in a fairly straight line and
could live off the land, there was a
fair chance he might make it back
to the city. What kind of a reception
would be waiting for him there
was a different matter altogether. He
would find that out after he arrived.
Getting there had first priority.</p>

<p>On the debit side there stood the
planet Pyrrus. Strength-sapping gravity,
murderous weather, and violent
animals. Could he survive? As if to
add emphasis to his thoughts, the
sky darkened over and rain hissed
into the forest, marching towards
him. Jason scrambled to his feet and
took a bearing before the rain closed
down visibility. A jagged chain of
mountains stood dimly on the horizon,
he remembered crossing them
on the flight out. They would do as
a first goal. After he had reached
them, he would worry about the next
leg of the journey.</p>

<hr />

<p>Leaves and dirt flew before the
wind in quick gusts, then the rain
washed over him. Soaked, chilled,
already bone-tired, he pitted the tottering
strength of his legs against
the planet of death.</p>

<p>When nightfall came it was still
raining. There was no way of being
sure of the direction, and no point
in going on. If that wasn't enough,
Jason was on the ragged edge of
exhaustion. It was going to be a wet
night. All the trees were thick-boled
and slippery, he couldn't have
climbed them on a one-G world. The
sheltered spots that he investigated,
under fallen trees and beneath thick
bushes, were just as wet as the rest
of the forest. In the end he curled
up on the leeward side of a tree,
and fell asleep, shivering, with the
water dripping off him.</p>

<p>The rain stopped around midnight
and the temperature fell sharply. Jason
woke sluggishly from a dream
in which he was being frozen to
death, to find it was almost true.
Fine snow was sifting through the
trees, powdering the ground and
drifting against him. The cold bit
into his flesh, and when he sneezed
it hurt his chest. His aching and
numb body only wanted rest, but the
spark of reason that remained in
him, forced him to his feet. If he
lay down now, he would die. Holding
one hand against the tree so he
wouldn't fall, he began to trudge
around it. Step after shuffling step,
around and around, until the terrible
cold eased a bit and he could
stop shivering. Fatigue crawled up
him like a muffling, gray blanket. He
kept on walking, half the time with
his eyes closed. Opening them only
when he fell and had to climb painfully
to his feet again.</p>

<p>The sun burned away the snow
clouds at dawn. Jason leaned against
his tree and blinked up at the sky
with sore eyes. The ground was
white in all directions, except
around the tree where his stumbling
feet had churned a circle of black
mud. His back against the smooth
trunk, Jason sank slowly down to the
ground, letting the sun soak into him.</p>

<p>Exhaustion had him light-headed,
and his lips were cracked from thirst.
Almost continuous coughing tore at
his chest with fingers of fire. Though
the sun was still low it was hot already,
burning his skin dry. Dry and
hot.</p>

<p>It wasn't right. This thought kept
nagging at his brain until he admitted
it. Turned it over and over and
looked at it from all sides. What
wasn't right? The way he felt.</p>

<p>Pneumonia. He had all the symptoms.</p>

<p>His dry lips cracked and blood
moistened them when he smiled. He
had avoided all the animal perils of
Pyrrus, all the big carnivores and
poisonous reptiles, only to be laid
low by the smallest beast of them all.
Well, he had the remedy for this one,
too. Rolling up his sleeve with shaking
fingers, he pressed the mouth of
the medikit to his bare arm. It clicked
and began to drone an angry
whine. That meant something, he
knew, but he just couldn't remember
what. Holding it up he saw that
one of the hypodermics was projecting
halfway from its socket. Of
course. It was empty of whatever antibiotic
the analyzer had called for. It
needed refilling.</p>

<p>Jason hurled the thing away with
a curse, and it splashed into a pool
and was gone. End of medicine, end
of medikit, end of Jason dinAlt.
Single-handed battler against the
perils of deathworld. Strong-hearted
stranger who could do as well as
the natives. It had taken him all
of one day on his own to get his
death warrant signed.</p>

<hr />

<p>A choking growl echoed behind
him. He turned, dropped and fired
in the same motion. It was all over
before his conscious mind was aware
it had happened. Pyrran training had
conditioned his reflexes on the pre-cortical
level. Jason gaped at the ugly
beast dying not a meter from him
and realized he had been trained well.</p>

<p>His first reaction was unhappiness
that he had killed one of the grubber
dogs. When he looked closer he
realized this animal was slightly different
in markings, size and temper.
Though most of its forequarters were
blown away, blood pumping out in
dying spurts, it kept trying to reach
Jason. Before the eyes glazed with
death it had struggled its way almost
to his feet.</p>

<p>It wasn't quite a grubber dog,
though chances were it was a wild
relative. Bearing the same relation as
dog to wolf. He wondered if there
were any other resemblances between
wolves and this dead beast. Did they
hunt in packs, too?</p>

<p>As soon as the thought hit him
he looked up&mdash;not a moment too
soon. The great forms were drifting
through the trees, closing in on him.
When he shot two, the others snarled
with rage and sank back into the
forest. They didn't leave. Instead of
being frightened by the deaths they
grew even more enraged.</p>

<p>Jason sat with his back to the tree
and waited until they came close before
he picked them off. With each
shot and dying scream the outraged
survivors howled the louder. Some
of them fought when they met, venting
their rage. One stood on his hind
legs and raked great strips of bark
from a tree. Jason aimed a shot at it,
but he was too far away to hit.</p>

<p>There were advantages to having
a fever, he realized. Logically he
knew he would live only to sunset,
or until his gun was empty. Yet the
fact didn't bother him greatly. Nothing
really mattered. He slumped, relaxed
completely, only raising his
arm to fire, then letting it drop again.
Every few minutes he had to move
to look in back of the tree, and kill
any of them that were stalking him
in the blind spot. He wished dimly
that he were leaning against a
smaller tree, but it wasn't worth the
effort to go to one.</p>

<p>Sometime in the afternoon he fired
his last shot. It killed an animal he
had allowed to get close. He had
noticed he was missing the longer
shots. The beast snarled and dropped,
the others that were close pulled back
and howled in sympathy. One of them
exposed himself and Jason pulled the
trigger.</p>

<p>There was only a slight click. He
tried again, in case it was just a misfire,
but there was still only the click.
The gun was empty, as was the spare
clip pouch at his belt. There were
vague memories of reloading, though
he couldn't remember how many
times he had done it.</p>

<p>This, then, was the end. They had
all been right, Pyrrus was a match for
him. Though they shouldn't talk. It
would kill them all in the end, too.
Pyrrans never died in bed. Old Pyrrans
never died, they just got et.</p>

<p>Now that he didn't have to force
himself to stay alert and hold the
gun, the fever took hold. He wanted
to sleep and he knew it would be a
long sleep. His eyes were almost
closed as he watched the wary carnivores
slip closer to him. The first
one crept close enough to spring, he
could see the muscles tensing in its
leg.</p>

<p>It leaped. Whirling in midair and
falling before it reached him. Blood
ran from its gaping mouth and the
short shaft of metal projected from
the side of his head.</p>

<p>The two men walked out of the
brush and looked down at him. Their
mere presence seemed to have been
enough for the carnivores, because
they all vanished.</p>

<p>Grubbers. He had been in such a
hurry to reach the city that he had
forgotten about the grubbers. It was
good that they were here and Jason
was very glad they had come. He
couldn't talk very well, so he smiled
to thank them. But this hurt his lips
too much so he went to sleep.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XXIV.</h2>

<p>For a strange length of time after
that, there were only hazy patches of
memory that impressed themselves on
Jason. A sense of movement and
large beasts around him. Walls, wood-smoke,
the murmur of voices. None
of it meant very much and he was
too tired to care. It was easier and
much better just to let go.</p>

<hr />

<p>"About time," Rhes said. "A
couple more days lying there like that
and we would have buried you, even
if you were still breathing."</p>

<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/019.png" width="350" height="327" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>Jason blinked at him, trying to
focus the face that swam above him.
He finally recognized Rhes, and
wanted to answer him. But talking
only brought on a spell of body-wracking
coughing. Someone held a
cup to his lips and sweet fluid trickled
down his throat. He rested, then
tried again.</p>

<p>"How long have I been here?" The
voice was thin and sounded far away.
Jason had trouble recognizing it for
his own.</p>

<p>"Eight days. And why didn't you
listen when I talked to you?" Rhes
said.</p>

<p>"You should have stayed near the
ship when you crashed. Didn't you
remember what I said about coming
down anywhere on this continent? No
matter, too late to worry about that.
Next time listen to what I say. Our
people moved fast and reached the site
of the wreck before dark. They found
the broken trees and the spot where
the ship had sunk, and at first thought
whoever had been in it had drowned.
Then one of the dogs found your
trail, but lost it again in the swamps
during the night. They had a fine
time with the mud and the snow
and didn't have any luck at all in
finding the spoor again. By the next
afternoon they were ready to send
for more help when they heard your
firing. Just made it, from what I
hear. Lucky one of them was a talker
and could tell the wild dogs to clear
out. Would have had to kill
them all otherwise, and that's not
healthy."</p>

<p>"Thanks for saving my neck,"
Jason said. "That was closer than I
like to come. What happened after?
I was sure I was done for, I remember
that much. Diagnosed all the
symptoms of pneumonia. Guaranteed
fatal in my condition without treatment.
Looks like you were wrong
when you said most of your remedies
were useless&mdash;they seemed to
work well on me."</p>

<p>His voice died off as Rhes shook
his head in a slow <i>no</i>, lines of worry
sharp-cut into his face. Jason looked
around and saw Naxa and another
man. They had the same deeply unhappy
expressions as Rhes.</p>

<p>"What is it?" Jason asked, feeling
the trouble. "If your remedies
didn't work&mdash;what did? Not my
medikit. That was empty. I remember
losing it or throwing it away."</p>

<p>"You were dying," Rhes said
slowly. "We couldn't cure you. Only
a junkman medicine machine could
do that. We got one from the driver
of the food truck."</p>

<p>"But how?" Jason asked, dazed.
"You told me the city forbids you
medicine. He couldn't give you his
own medikit. Not unless he was&mdash;"</p>

<p>Rhes nodded and finished the sentence.
"Dead. Of course he was dead.
I killed him myself, with a great deal
of pleasure."</p>

<p>This hit Jason hard. He sagged
against the pillows and thought of all
those who had died since he had come
to Pyrrus. The men who had died
to save him, died so he could live,
died because of his ideas. It was a
burden of guilt that he couldn't bear
to think about. Would it stop with
Krannon&mdash;or would the city people
try to avenge his death?</p>

<p>"Don't you realize what that
means!" he gasped out the words.
"Krannon's death will turn the city
against you. There'll be no more supplies.
They'll attack you when they
can, kill your people&mdash;"</p>

<p>"Of course we know that!" Rhes
leaned forward, his voice hoarse and
intense. "It wasn't an easy decision to
come to. We have always had a trading
agreement with the junkmen. The
trading trucks were inviolate. This
was our last and only link to the galaxy
outside and eventual hope of contacting
them."</p>

<p>"Yet you broke that link to save
me&mdash;why?"</p>

<p>"Only you can answer that question
completely. There was a great
attack on the city and we saw their
walls broken, they had to be moved
back at one place. At the same time
the spaceship was over the ocean,
dropping bombs of some kind&mdash;the
flash was reported. Then the ship returned
and <i>you</i> left it in a smaller
ship. They fired at you but didn't kill
you. The little ship wasn't destroyed
either, we are starting to raise it now.
What does it all mean? We had no
way of telling. We only knew it was
something vitally important. You
were alive, but would obviously die
before you could talk. The small ship
might be repaired to fly, perhaps that
was your plan and that is why you
stole it for us. We <i>couldn't</i> let you
die, not even if it meant all-out war
with the city. The situation was explained
to all of our people who
could be reached by screen and they
voted to save you. I killed the junkman
for his medicine, then rode two
doryms to death to get here in time.</p>

<p>"Now tell us&mdash;what does it mean?
What is your plan? How will it help
us?"</p>

<hr />

<p>Guilt leaned on Jason and stifled
his mouth. A fragment of an ancient
legend cut across his mind, about
the jonah who wrecked the spacer so
all in it died, yet he lived. Was that
he? Had he wrecked a world? Could
he dare admit to these people that
he had taken the lifeboat only to save
his own life?</p>

<p>The three Pyrrans leaned forward,
waiting for his words. Jason closed
his eyes so he wouldn't see their
faces. What could he tell them? If
he admitted the truth they would undoubtedly
kill him on the spot, considering
it only justice. He wasn't
fearful for his own life any more,
but if he died the other deaths would
all have been in vain. And there still
was a way to end this planetary war.
All the facts were available now, it
was just a matter of putting them together.
If only he wasn't so tired, he
could see the solution. It was right
there, lurking around a corner in his
brain, waiting to be dragged out.</p>

<p>Whatever he did, he couldn't admit
the truth now. If he died all
hope died. He had to lie to gain
time, then find the true solution as
soon as he was able. That was all he
could do.</p>

<p>"You were right," Jason said haltingly.
"The small ship has an interstellar
drive in it. Perhaps it can still
be saved. Even if it can't there is
another way. I can't explain now,
but I will tell you when I am rested.
Don't worry. The fight is almost
over."</p>

<p>They laughed and pounded each
other on the back. When they came
to shake his hand as well, he closed
his eyes and made believe he was
asleep. It is very hard to be a hypocrite
if you aren't trained for it.</p>

<p>Rhes woke him early the next
morning. "Do you feel well enough
to travel?" he asked.</p>

<p>"Depends what you mean by travel,"
Jason told him. "If you mean
under my own power, I doubt if I
could get as far as that door."</p>

<p>"You'll be carried," Rhes broke in.
"We have a litter swung between
two doryms. Not too comfortable,
but you'll get there. But only if you
think you are well enough to move.
We called all the people within riding
distance and they are beginning
to gather. By this afternoon we will
have enough men and doryms to pull
the ship out of the swamp."</p>

<p>"I'll come," Jason said, pushing
himself to a sitting position. The effort
exhausted him, bringing a wave
of nausea. Only by leaning his full
weight against the wall could he keep
from falling back. He sat, propped
there, until he heard shouts and the
stamping of heavy feet outside, and
they came to carry him out.</p>

<p>The trip drained away his small
store of energy, and he fell into an
exhausted sleep. When he opened his
eyes the doryms were standing knee
deep in the swamp and the salvage
operation had begun. Ropes vanished
out of sight in the water while lines
of struggling animals and men hauled
at them. The beasts bellowed,
the men cursed as they slipped and
fell. All of the Pyrrans tugging on
the lines weren't male, women were
there as well. Shorter on the average
than the men, they were just as
brawny. Their clothing was varied
and many-colored, the first touch of
decoration Jason had seen on this
planet.</p>

<p>Getting the ship up was a heart-breaking
job. The mud sucked at it
and underwater roots caught on the
vanes. Divers plunged time and again
into the brown water to cut them
free. Progress was incredibly slow,
but the work never stopped. Jason's
brain was working even slower. The
ship would be hauled up eventually&mdash;what
would he do then? He had to
have a new plan by that time, but
thinking was impossible work. His
thoughts corkscrewed and he had to
fight down the rising feeling of
panic.</p>

<p>The sun was low when the ship's
nose finally appeared above the
water. A ragged cheer broke out at
first sight of that battered cone of
metal and they went ahead with new
energy.</p>

<p>Jason was the first one who noticed
the dorym weaving towards
them. The dogs saw it, of course,
and ran out and sniffed. The rider
shouted to the dogs and kicked angrily
at the sides of his mount. Even
at this distance Jason could see the
beast's heaving sides and yellow foam-flecked
hide. It was barely able
to stagger now and the man jumped
down, running ahead on foot. He
was shouting something as he ran
that couldn't be heard above the
noise.</p>

<p>There was a single moment when
the sounds slacked a bit and the running
man's voice could be heard.
He was calling the same word over
and over again. It sounded like <i>wait</i>,
but Jason couldn't be sure. Others
had heard him though, and the result
was instantaneous. They stopped,
unmoving, where they were. Many
of those holding the ropes let go of
them. Only the quick action of the
anchor men kept the ship from sliding
back under, dragging the harnessed
doryms with it. A wave of
silence washed across the swamp in
the wake of the running man's
shouts. They could be heard clearly
now.</p>

<p>"<i>Quake! Quake on the way! South&mdash;only
safe way is south!</i>"</p>

<p>One by one the ropes dropped
back into the water and the Pyrrans
turned to wade to solid land. Before
they were well started Rhes'
voice cracked out.</p>

<p>"Stay at work! Get the ship up,
it's our only hope now. I'll talk to
Hananas, find out how much time
we have."</p>

<p>These solitary people were unused
to orders. They stopped and milled
about, reason fighting with the urgent
desire to run. One by one they
stepped back to the ropes as they
worked out the sense of Rhes' words.
As soon as it was clear the work
would continue he turned away.</p>

<p>"What is it? What's happening?"
Jason called to him as he ran by.</p>

<p>"It's Hananas," Rhes said, stopping
by the litter, waiting for the
newcomer to reach him. "He's a
quakeman. They know when quakes
are coming, before they happen."</p>

<p>Hananas ran up, panting and
tired. He was a short man, built like
a barrel on stubby legs, a great white
beard covering his neck and the top
of his chest. Another time Jason
might have laughed at his incongruous
waddle, but not now. There was
a charged difference in the air since
the little man had arrived.</p>

<p>"Why didn't ... you have somebody
near a plate? I called all over
this area without an answer. Finally
... had to come myself&mdash;"</p>

<p>"How much time do we have?"
Rhes cut in. "We have to get that
ship up before we pull out."</p>

<p>"Time! Who knows about time!"
the graybeard cursed. "Get out or
you're dead."</p>

<p>"Calm down, Han," Rhes said in
a quieter voice, taking the oldster's
arms in both his hands. "You know
what we're doing here&mdash;and how
much depends on getting the ship
up. Now how does it feel? This going
to be a fast one or a slow one?"</p>

<p>"Fast. Faster than anything I felt
in a long time. She's starting far
away though, if you had a plate here
I bet Mach or someone else up near
the firelands would be reporting new
eruptions. It's on the way and, if we
don't get out soon, we're not getting
out t'all."</p>

<hr />

<p>There was a burble of water as
the ship was hauled out a bit farther.
No one talked now and there
was a fierce urgency in their movements.
Jason still wasn't sure exactly
what had happened.</p>

<p>"Don't shoot me for a foreigner,"
he said, "but just what is wrong? Are
you expecting earthquakes here, are
you sure?"</p>

<p>"Sure!" Hananas screeched. "Of
course I'm sure. If I wasn't sure I
wouldn't be a quakeman. It's on the
way."</p>

<p>"There's no doubt of that," Rhes
added. "I don't know how you can
tell on your planet when quakes or
vulcanism are going to start, machines
maybe. We have nothing like
that. But quakemen, like Hananas
here, always know about them before
they happen. If the word can
be passed fast enough, we get away.
The quake is coming all right, the
only thing in doubt is how much
time we have."</p>

<p>The work went on and there was
a good chance they would die long
before it was finished. All for nothing.
The only way Jason could get
them to stop would be to admit the
ship was useless. He would be killed
then and the grubber chances would
die with him. He chewed his lip as
the sun set and the work continued
by torchlight.</p>

<p>Hananas paced around, grumbling
under his breath, halting only to
glance at the northern horizon. The
people felt his restlessness and transmitted
it to the animals. Dogfights
broke out and the doryms pulled reluctantly
at their harnesses. With
each passing second their chances
grew slimmer and Jason searched
desperately for a way out of the trap
of his own constructing.</p>

<p>"Look&mdash;" someone said, and they
all turned. The sky to the north was
lit with a red light. There was a
rumble in the ground that was felt
more than heard. The surface of the
water blurred, then broke into patterns
of tiny waves. Jason turned
away from the light, looking at the
water and the ship. It was higher
now, the top of the stern exposed.
There was a gaping hole here, blasted
through the metal by the spaceship's
guns.</p>

<p>"Rhes," he called, his words
jammed together in the rush to get
them out. "Look at the ship, at the
hole blasted in her stern. I landed
on the rockets and didn't know how
badly she was hit. But the guns hit
the star drive!"</p>

<p>Rhes gaped at him unbelievingly
as he went on. Improvising, playing
by ear, trying to manufacture lies
that rang of the truth.</p>

<p>"I watched them install the drive&mdash;it's
an auxiliary to the other engines.
It was bolted to the hull right there.
It's gone now, blown up. The boat
will never leave this planet, much
less go to another star."</p>

<p>He couldn't look Rhes in the eyes
after that. He sank back into the furs
that had been propped behind him,
feeling the weakness even more. Rhes
was silent and Jason couldn't tell if
his story had been believed. Only
when the Pyrran bent and slashed the
nearest rope did he know he had
won.</p>

<p>The word passed from man to man
and the ropes were cut silently. Behind
them the ship they had labored
so hard over, sank back into the water.
None of them watched. Each was
locked in his own world of thought
as they formed up to leave. As soon
as the doryms were saddled and
packed they started out, Hananas
leading the way. Within minutes they
were all moving, a single file that
vanished into the darkness.</p>

<p>Jason's litter had to be left behind,
it would have been smashed
to pieces in the night march. Rhes
pulled him up into the saddle before
him, locking his body into place
with a steel-hard arm. The trek continued.</p>

<p>When they left the swamp they
changed directions sharply. A little
later Jason knew why, when the
southern sky exploded. Flames lit the
scene brightly, ashes sifted down and
hot lumps of rock crashed into the
trees. They steamed when they hit,
and if it hadn't been for the earlier
rain they would have been faced with
a forest fire as well.</p>

<p>Something large loomed up next to
the line of march, and when they
crossed an open space Jason looked
at it in the reflected light from the
sky.</p>

<p>"Rhes&mdash;" he choked, pointing.
Rhes looked at the great beast moving
next to them, shaggy body and
twisted horns as high as their shoulders,
then looked away. He wasn't
frightened or apparently interested.
Jason looked around then and began
to understand.</p>

<p>All of the fleeing animals made no
sound, that's why he hadn't noticed
them before. But on both sides dark
forms ran between the trees. Some
he recognized, most of them he
didn't. For a few minutes a pack of
wild dogs ran near them, even mingling
with the domesticated dogs.
No notice was taken. Flying things
flapped overhead. Under the greater
threat of the volcanoes all other battles
were forgotten. Life respected
life. A herd of fat, piglike beasts
with curling tusks, blundered through
the line. The doryms slowed, picking
their steps carefully so they
wouldn't step on them. Smaller animals
sometimes clung to the backs
of the bigger ones, riding untouched
a while, before they leaped off.</p>

<p>Pounded mercilessly by the saddle,
Jason fell wearily into a light
sleep. It was shot through with
dreams of the rushing animals, hurrying
on forever in silence. With his
eyes open or shut he saw the same
endless stream of beasts.</p>

<p>It all meant something, and he
frowned as he tried to think what.
Animals running, Pyrran animals.</p>

<p>He sat bolt upright suddenly, wide
awake, staring down in comprehension.</p>

<p>"What is it?" Rhes asked.</p>

<p>"Go on," Jason said. "Get us out
of this, and get us out safely. I told
you the lifeboat wasn't the only answer.
I know how your people can
get what they want&mdash;end the war
now. There <i>is</i> a way, and I know how
it can be done."</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XXV.</h2>

<p>There were few coherent memories
of the ride. Some things stood out
sharply like the spaceship-sized lump
of burning scoria that had plunged
into a lake near them, showering the
line with hot drops of water. But
mostly it was just a seemingly endless
ride, with Jason still too weak to
care much about it. By dawn the danger
area was behind them and the
march had slowed to a walk. The animals
had vanished as the quake was
left behind, going their own ways,
still in silent armistice.</p>

<p>The peace of mutually shared danger
was over, Jason found that out
when they stopped to rest and eat. He
and Rhes went to sit on the soft grass,
near a fallen tree. A wild dog had
arrived there first. It lay under the log,
muscles tensed, the ruddy morning
light striking a red glint from its
eyes. Rhes faced it, not three meters
away, without moving a muscle. He
made no attempt to reach one of his
weapons or to call for help. Jason
stood still as well, hoping the Pyrran
knew what he was doing.</p>

<p>With no warning at all the dog
sprang straight at them. Jason fell
backwards as Rhes pushed him aside.
The Pyrran dropped at the same time&mdash;only
now his hand held the long
knife, yanked from the sheath strapped
to his thigh. With unseen speed
the knife came up, the dog twisted
in midair, trying to bite it. Instead
it sank in behind the dog's forelegs,
the beast's own weight tearing a deadly
gaping wound the length of its
body. It was still alive when it hit the
ground, but Rhes was astraddle it,
pulling back the bony-plated head to
cut the soft throat underneath.</p>

<p>The Pyrran carefully cleaned his
knife on the dead animal's fur, then
returned it to the sheath. "They're
usually no trouble," he said quietly,
"but it was excited. Probably lost the
rest of the pack in the quake." His
actions were the direct opposite of the
city Pyrrans. He had not looked for
trouble nor started the fight. Instead
he had avoided it as long as he could.
But when the beast charged it had
been neatly and efficiently dispatched.
Now, instead of gloating over his victory,
he seemed troubled over an unnecessary
death.</p>

<p>It made sense. Everything on Pyrrus
made sense. Now he knew how the
deadly planetary battle had started&mdash;and
he knew how it could be ended.
All the deaths had <i>not</i> been in vain.
Each one had helped him along the
road a little more towards the final
destination. There was just one final
thing to be done.</p>

<p>Rhes was watching him now, and
he knew they shared the same
thoughts. "Explain yourself," Rhes
said. "What did you mean when you
said we could wipe out the junkmen
and get our freedom?"</p>

<p>Jason didn't bother to correct the
misquote, it was best they consider
him a hundred per cent on their side.</p>

<p>"Get the others together and I'll
tell you. I particularly want to see
Naxa and any other talkers who are
here."</p>

<hr />

<p>They gathered quickly when the
word was passed. All of them knew
that the junkman had been killed to
save this off-worlder, that their hope
of salvation lay with him. Jason looked
at the crowd of faces turned towards
him and reached for the right
words to tell them what had to be
done. It didn't help to know that
many of them would be killed doing
it.</p>

<p>"The small star ship can't be used,"
he said. "You all saw that it was
ruined beyond repair. But that was
the easy way out. The hard way is
still left. Though some of you may
die, in the long run it will be the
best solution.</p>

<p>"We are going to invade the city,
break through the perimeter. I know
how it can be done ..."</p>

<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/020.png" width="350" height="164" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>A mutter of sound spread across
the crowd. Some of them looked excited,
happy with the thought of killing
their hereditary enemies. Others
stared at Jason as if he were mad. A
few were dazed at the magnitude of
the thought, this carrying of the battle
to the stronghold of the heavily
armed enemy. They quieted when
Jason raised his hand.</p>

<p>"I know it sounds impossible," he
said. "But let me explain. Something
must be done&mdash;and now is the time
to do it. The situation can only get
worse from now on. The city Pyrr ...
the junkmen can get along without
your food, their concentrates taste
awful but they sustain life. But they
are going to turn against you in every
way they can. No more metals for
your tools or replacements for your
electronic equipment. Their hatred
will probably make them seek out
your farms and destroy them from the
ship. All of this won't be comfortable&mdash;and
there will be worse to come. In
the city they are losing their war
against this planet. Each year there are
less of them, and some day they will
all be dead. Knowing how they feel
I am sure they will destroy their ship
first, and the entire planet as well, if
that is possible."</p>

<p>"How can we stop them?" someone
called out.</p>

<p>"By hitting <i>now</i>," Jason answered.
"I know all the details of the city
and I know how the defenses are set
up. Their perimeter is designed to
protect them from animal life, but we
could break through it if we were
really determined."</p>

<p>"What good would that do?" Rhes
snapped. "We crack the perimeter
and they draw back&mdash;then counter-attack
in force. How can we stand
against their weapons?"</p>

<p>"We won't have to. Their spaceport
touches the perimeter, and I
know the exact spot where the ship
stands. That is the place where we
will break through. There is no formal
guard on the ship and only a few
people in the area. We will capture
the ship. Whether we can fly it or not
is unimportant. Who controls the ship
controls Pyrrus. Once there we
threaten to destroy it if they don't
meet our terms. They have the choice
of mass suicide or co-operation. I
hope they have the brains to co-operate."</p>

<p>His words shocked them into silence
for an instant, then they surged
into a wave of sound. There was no
agreement, just excitement, and Rhes
finally brought them to order.</p>

<p>"Quiet!" he shouted. "Wait until
Jason finishes before you decide. We
still haven't heard how this proposed
invasion is to be accomplished."</p>

<p>"The plan I have depends on the
talkers." Jason said. "Is Naxa there?"
He waited until the fur-wrapped man
had pushed to the front. "I want to
know more about the talkers, Naxa.
I know you can speak to doryms and
the dogs here&mdash;but what about the
wild animals? Can you make them do
what you want?"</p>

<p>"They're animals ... course we
can talk t'them. Th'more talkers,
th'more power. Make 'em do just
what we want."</p>

<p>"Then the attack will work," Jason
said excitedly. "Could you get your
talkers all on one side of the city&mdash;the
opposite side from the spaceport&mdash;and
stir the animals up? Make
them attack the perimeter?"</p>

<p>"Could we!" Naxa shouted, carried
away by the idea. "We'd bring
in animals from all over, start th'biggest
attack they ev'r saw!"</p>

<p>"Then that's it. Your talkers will
launch the attack on the far side of
the perimeter. If you keep out of
sight, the guards will have no idea
that it is anything more than an animal
attack. I've seen how they work.
As an attack mounts they call for reserves
inside the city and drain men
away from the other parts of the
perimeter. At the height of the battle,
when they have all their forces committed
across the city, I'll lead the
attack that will break through and
capture the ship. That's the plan and
it's going to work."</p>

<p>Jason sat down then, half fell
down, drained of strength. He lay
and listened as the debate went back
and forth, Rhes ordering it and keeping
it going. Difficulties were raised
and eliminated. No one could find a
basic fault with the plan. There were
plenty of flaws in it, things that might
go wrong, but Jason didn't mention
them. These people wanted his idea
to work and they were going to make
it work.</p>

<p>It finally broke up and they moved
away. Rhes came over to Jason.</p>

<p>"The basics are settled," he said.
"All here are in agreement. They are
spreading the word by messenger to
all the talkers. The talkers are the
heart of the attack, and the more we
have, the better it will go off. We
don't dare use the screens to call them,
there is a good chance that the junkmen
can intercept our messages. It
will take five days before we are
ready to go ahead."</p>

<p>"I'll need all of that time if I'm to
be any good," Jason said. "Now let's
get some rest."</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XXVI.</h2>

<p>"It's a strange feeling," Jason said.
"I've never really seen the perimeter
from this side before. Ugly is about
the only word for it."</p>

<p>He lay on his stomach next to Rhes,
looking through a screen of leaves,
downhill towards the perimeter. They
were both wrapped in heavy furs, in
spite of the midday heat, with thick
leggings and leather gauntlets to protect
their hands. The gravity and the
heat were already making Jason dizzy,
but he forced himself to ignore this.</p>

<p>Ahead, on the far side of a burnt
corridor, stood the perimeter. A high
wall, of varying height and texture,
seemingly made of everything in the
world. It was impossible to tell what
it had originally been constructed of.
Generations of attackers had bruised,
broken, and undermined it. Repairs
had been quickly made, patches thrust
roughly into place and fixed there.
Crude masonry crumbled and gave
way to a rat's nest of woven timbers.
This overlapped a length of pitted
metal, large plates riveted together.
Even this metal had been eaten
through and bursting sandbags spilled
out of a jagged hole. Over the
surface of the wall detector wires and
charged cables looped and hung. At
odd intervals automatic flame-throwers
thrust their nozzles over the wall
above and swept the base of the wall
clear of any life that might have come
close.</p>

<p>"Those flame things can cause us
trouble," Rhes said. "That one covers
the area where you want to break in."</p>

<p>"It'll be no problem," Jason assured
him. "It may look like it is firing
a random pattern, but it's really
not. It varies a simple sweep just
enough to fool an animal, but was
never meant to keep men out. Look
for yourself. It fires at regularly repeated
two, four, three and one minute
intervals."</p>

<p>They crawled back to the hollow
where Naxa and the others waited for
them. There were only thirty men in
the party. What they had to do could
only be done with a fast, light force.
Their strongest weapon was surprise.
Once that was gone their other weapons
wouldn't hold out for seconds
against the city guns. Everyone looked
uncomfortable in the fur and leather
wrappings, and some of the men had
loosened them to cool off.</p>

<p>"Wrap up," Jason ordered. "None
of you have been this close to the
perimeter before and you don't understand
how deadly it is here. Naxa is
keeping the larger animals away and
you all can handle the smaller ones.
That isn't the danger. Every thorn is
poisoned, and even the blades of grass
carry a deadly sting. Watch out for
insects of any kind and once we start
moving breathe only through the wet
cloths."</p>

<p>"He's right," Naxa snorted. "N'ver
been closer'n this m'self. Death, death
up by that wall. Do like 'e says."</p>

<hr />

<p>They could only wait then, honing
down already needle-sharp crossbow
bolts, and glancing up at the slowly
moving sun. Only Naxa didn't share
the unrest. He sat, eyes unfocused,
feeling the movement of animal life
in the jungle around them.</p>

<p>"On the way," he said. "Biggest
thing I 'ver heard. Not a beast 'tween
here and the mountains, ain't howlin'
'is lungs out, runnin' towards the
city."</p>

<p>Jason was aware of part of it. A
tension in the air and a wave of intensified
anger and hatred. It would
work, he knew, if they could only
keep the attack confined to a small
area. The talkers had seemed sure of
it. They had stalked out quietly that
morning, a thin line of ragged men,
moving out in a mental sweep that
would round up the Pyrran life and
send it charging against the city.</p>

<p>"They hit!" Naxa said suddenly.</p>

<p>The men were on their feet now,
staring in the direction of the city.
Jason had felt the twist as the attack
had been driven home, and knew
that this was it. There was the sound
of shots and a heavy booming far
away. Thin streamers of smoke began
to blow above the treetops.</p>

<p>"Let's get into position," Rhes
said.</p>

<p>Around them the jungle howled
with an echo of hatred. The half-sentient
plants writhed and the air
was thick with small flying things.
Naxa sweated and mumbled as he
turned back the animals that crashed
towards them. By the time they reached
the last screen of foliage before
the burned-out area, they had lost four
men. One had been stung by an insect,
Jason got the medikit to him in time,
but he was so sick he had to turn back.
The other three were bitten or scratched
and treatment came too late. Their
swollen, twisted bodies were left behind
on the trail.</p>

<p>"Dam' beasts hurt m'head," Naxa
muttered. "When we go in?"</p>

<p>"Not yet," Rhes said. "We wait for
the signal."</p>

<p>One of the men carried the radio.
He sat it down carefully, then threw
the aerial over a branch. The set was
shielded so no radiation leaked out to
give them away. It was turned on, but
only a hiss of atmospheric static came
from the speaker.</p>

<p>"We could have timed it&mdash;" Rhes
said.</p>

<p>"No we couldn't," Jason told him.
"Not accurately. We want to hit that
wall at the height of the attack, when
our chances are best. Even if they hear
the message it won't mean a thing to
them inside. And a few minutes later
it won't matter."</p>

<p>The sound from the speaker
changed. A voice spoke a short sentence,
then cut off.</p>

<p>"<i>Bring me three barrels of flour.</i>"</p>

<p>"Let's go," Rhes urged as he started
forward.</p>

<p>"Wait," Jason said, taking him by
the arm. "I'm timing the flame-thrower.
It's due in ... <i>there</i>!" A
blast of fire sprayed the ground, then
turned off. "We have four minutes
to the next one&mdash;we hit the long
period!"</p>

<hr />

<p>They ran, stumbling in the soft
ashes, tripping over charred bones
and rusted metal. Two men grabbed
Jason under the arm and half-carried
him across the ground. It hadn't been
planned that way, but it saved precious
seconds. They dropped him
against the wall and he fumbled out
the bombs he had made. The charges
from Krannon's gun, taken when he
was killed, had been hooked together
with a firing circuit. All the moves
had been rehearsed carefully and they
went smoothly now.</p>

<p>Jason had picked the metal wall as
being the best spot to break in. It offered
the most resistance to the native
life, so the chances were it
wouldn't be reinforced with sandbags
or fill, the way other parts of the wall
were. If he was wrong, they were all
dead.</p>

<p>The first men had slapped their
wads of sticky congealed sap against
the wall. Jason pressed the charges
into them and they stuck, a roughly
rectangular pattern as high as a man.
While he did this the detonating wire
was run out to its length and the
raiders pressed back against the base
of the wall. Jason stumbled through
the ashes to the detonator, fell on it
and pressed the switch at the same
time.</p>

<p>Behind him a thundering bang
shook the wall and red flame burst
out. Rhes was the first one there, pulling
at the twisted and smoking metal
with his gloved hands. Others grabbed
on and bent the jagged pieces
aside. The hole was filled with smoke
and nothing was visible through it.
Jason dived into the opening, rolled
on a heap of rubble and smacked into
something solid. When he blinked
the smoke from his eyes he looked
around him.</p>

<p>He was inside the city.</p>

<p>The others poured through now,
picking him up as they charged in
so he wouldn't be trampled underfoot.
Someone spotted the spaceship
and they ran that way.</p>

<p>A man ran around the corner of a
building towards them. His Pyrran
reflexes sent him springing into the
safety of a doorway the same moment
he saw the invaders. But they were
Pyrrans, too. The man slumped slowly
back onto the street, three metal
bolts sticking out of his body. They
ran on without stopping, running between
the low storehouses. The ship
stood ahead.</p>

<p>Someone had reached it ahead of
them, they could see the outer hatch
slowly grinding shut. A hail of bolts
from the bows crashed into it with
no effect.</p>

<p>"Keep going!" Jason shouted. "Get
next to the hull before he reaches the
guns."</p>

<p>This time three men didn't make it.
The rest of them were under the belly
of the ship when every gun let go at
once. Most of them were aimed away
from the ship, still the scream of
shells and electric discharges was ear-shattering.
The three men still in the
open dissolved under the fire. Whoever
was inside the ship had hit all
the gun trips at once, both to knock
out the attackers and summon aid.
He would be on the screen now, calling
for help. Their time was running
out.</p>

<p>Jason reached up and tried to open
the hatch, while the others watched.
It was locked from the inside. One of
the men brushed him aside and pulled
at the inset handle. It broke off in his
hand but the hatch remained closed.</p>

<p>The big guns had stopped now and
they could hear again.</p>

<p>"Did anyone get the gun from that
dead man?" he asked. "It would blow
this thing open."</p>

<p>"No," Rhes said, "we didn't stop."</p>

<p>Before the words were out of his
mouth two men were running back
towards the buildings, angling away
from each other. The ship's guns
roared again, a string of explosions
cut across one man. Before they could
change direction and find the other
man he had reached the buildings.</p>

<p>He returned quickly, darting into
the open to throw the gun to them.
Before he could dive back to safety
the shells caught him.</p>

<hr />

<p>Jason grabbed up the gun as it
skidded almost to his feet. They heard
the sound of wide-open truck turbines
screaming towards them as he blasted
the lock. The mechanism sighed and
the hatch sagged open. They were all
through the air lock before the first
truck appeared. Naxa stayed behind
with the gun, to hold the lock until
they could take the control room.</p>

<p>Everyone climbed faster than Jason,
once he had pointed them the way,
so the battle was over when he got
there. The single city Pyrran looked
like a pin-cushion. One of the techs
had found the gun controls and was
shooting wildly, the sheer quantity
of his fire driving the trucks back.</p>

<p>"Someone get on the radio and tell
the talkers to call the attack off,"
Jason said. He found the communications
screen and snapped it on. Kerk's
wide-eyed face stared at him from the
screen.</p>

<p>"<i>You!</i>" Kerk said, breathing the
word like a curse.</p>

<p>"Yes, it's me," Jason answered. He
talked without looking up, while his
hands were busy at the control board.
"Listen to me, Kerk&mdash;and don't
doubt anything I say. I may not know
how to fly one of these ships, but I
do know how to blow them up. Do
you hear that sound?" He flipped
over a switch and the faraway whine
of a pump droned faintly. "That's the
main fuel pump. If I let it run&mdash;which
I won't right now&mdash;it could
quickly fill the drive chamber with
raw fuel. Pour in so much that it
would run out of the stern tubes.
Then what do you think would happen
to your one and only spacer if I
pressed the firing button? I'm not
asking you what would happen to me,
since you don't care&mdash;but you need
this ship the way you need life itself."</p>

<p>There was only silence in the cabin
now, the men who had won the ship
turned to face him. Kerk's voice
grated loudly through the room.</p>

<p>"What do you want, Jason&mdash;what
are you trying to do? Why did you
lead those animals in here ..." His
voice cracked and broke as anger
choked him and spilled over.</p>

<p>"Watch your tongue, Kerk," Jason
said with soft menace. "These <i>men</i>
you are talking about are the only
ones on Pyrrus who have a spaceship.
If you want them to share it with
you, you had better learn to talk
nicely. Now come over here at once&mdash;and
bring Brucco and Meta." Jason
looked at the older man's florid and
swollen face and felt a measure of
sympathy. "Don't look so unhappy,
it's not the end of the world. In fact,
it might be the beginning of one.
And another thing, leave this channel
open when you go. Have it hooked
into every screen in the city so everyone
can see what happens here. Make
sure it's taped too, for replay."</p>

<p>Kerk started to say something, but
changed his mind before he did. He
left the screen, but the set stayed
alive. Carrying the scene in the control
room to the entire city.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XXVII.</h2>

<p>The fight was over. It had ended
so quickly the fact hadn't really sunk
in yet. Rhes rubbed his hand against
the gleaming metal of the control
console, letting the reality of touch
convince him. The other men milled
about, looking out through the viewscreens
or soaking in the mechanical
strangeness of the room.</p>

<p>Jason was physically exhausted, but
he couldn't let it show. He opened
the pilot's medbox and dug through
it until he found the stimulants.
Three of the little gold pills washed
the fatigue from his body, and he
could think clearly again.</p>

<p>"Listen to me," he shouted. "The
fight's not over yet. They'll try anything
to take this ship back and we
have to be ready. I want one of the
techs to go over these boards until he
finds the lock controls. Make sure all
the air locks and ports are sealed. Send
men to check them if necessary. Turn
on all the screens to scan in every direction,
so no one can get near the
ship. We'll need a guard in the engine
room, my control could be cut if
they broke in there. And there had
better be a room-by-room search of
the ship, in case someone else is locked
in with us."</p>

<p>The men had something to do now
and felt relieved. Rhes split them up
into groups and set them to work.
Jason stayed at the controls, his hand
next to the pump switch. The battle
wasn't over yet.</p>

<p>"There's a truck coming," Rhes
called, "going slow."</p>

<p>"Should I blast it?" the man at the
gun controls asked.</p>

<p>"Hold your fire," Jason said, "until
we can see who it is. If it's the people
I sent for, let them through."</p>

<p>As the truck came on slowly, the
gunner tracked it with his sights.
There was a driver and three passengers.
Jason waited until he was positive
who they were.</p>

<p>"Those are the ones," he said.
"Stop them at the lock, Rhes, make
them come in one at a time. Take
their guns as they enter, then strip
them of <i>all</i> their equipment. There is
no way of telling what could be a
concealed weapon. Be specially careful
of Brucco&mdash;he's the thin one with
a face like an ax edge&mdash;make sure you
strip him clean. He's a specialist in
weapons and survival. And bring the
driver too, we don't want him reporting
back about the broken air lock or
the state of our guns."</p>

<p>Waiting was hard. His hand stayed
next to the pump switch, even though
he knew he could never use it. Just as
long as the others thought he would.</p>

<hr />

<p>There were stampings and muttered
curses in the corridor; the prisoners
were pushed in. Jason had one look
at their deadly expressions and clenched
fists before he called to Rhes.</p>

<p>"Keep them against the wall and
watch them. Bowmen keep your
weapons up." He looked at the people
who had once been his friends
and who now swam in hatred for him.
Meta, Kerk, Brucco. The driver was
Skop, the man Kerk had once appointed
to guard him. He looked
ready to explode now that the roles
had been reversed.</p>

<p>"Pay close attention," Jason said,
"because your lives depend upon it.
Keep your backs to the wall and don't
attempt to come any closer to me than
you are now. If you do, you will be
shot instantly. If we were alone, any
one of you could undoubtedly reach
me before I threw this switch. But
we're not. You have Pyrran reflexes
and muscles&mdash;but so do the bowmen.
Don't gamble. Because it won't be a
gamble. It will be suicide. I'm telling
you this for your own protection. So
we can talk peacefully without one
of you losing his temper and suddenly
getting shot. <i>There is no way out of
this.</i> You are going to be forced to
listen to everything I say. You can't
escape or kill me. The war is over."</p>

<p>"And we lost&mdash;and all because of
you ... you <i>traitor</i>!" Meta snarled.</p>

<p>"Wrong on both counts," Jason
said blandly. "I'm not a traitor because
I owe my allegiance to all men
on this planet, both inside the perimeter
and out. I never pretended differently.
As to losing&mdash;why you haven't
lost anything. In fact you've won.
Won your war against this planet, if
you will only hear me out." He turned
to Rhes, who was frowning in angry
puzzlement. "Of course your
people have won also, Rhes. No more
war with the city, you'll get medicine,
off-planet contact&mdash;everything you
want."</p>

<p>"Pardon me for being cynical,"
Rhes said, "but you're promising the
best of all possible worlds for everyone.
That will be a little hard to deliver
when our interests are opposed
so."</p>

<p>"You strike through to the heart
of the matter," Jason said. "Thank
you. This mess will be settled by seeing
that everyone's interests are not
opposed. Peace between the city and
farms, with an end to the useless war
you have been fighting. Peace between
mankind and the Pyrran life forms&mdash;because
that particular war is at the
bottom of all your troubles."</p>

<p>"The man's mad," Kerk said.</p>

<p>"Perhaps. You'll judge that after
you hear me out. I'm going to tell
you the history of this planet, because
that is where both the trouble and the
solution lie.</p>

<p>"When the settlers landed on Pyrrus
three hundred years ago they missed
the one important thing about this
planet, the factor that makes it different
from any other planet in the galaxy.
They can't be blamed for the
oversight, they had enough other
things to worry about. The gravity
was about the only thing familiar to
them, the rest of the environment was
a shocking change from the climate-controlled
industrial world they had
left. Storms, vulcanism, floods, earthquakes&mdash;it
was enough to drive them
insane, and I'm sure many of them
did go mad. The animal and insect
life was a constant annoyance, nothing
at all like the few harmless and
protected species they had known. I'm
sure they never realized that the Pyrran
life was telepathic as well&mdash;"</p>

<p>"That again!" Brucco snapped.
"True or not, it is of no importance.
I was tempted to agree with your
theory of psionic-controlled attack
on us, but the deadly fiasco you staged
proved that theory wrong."</p>

<p>"I agree," Jason answered. "I was
completely mistaken when I thought
some outside agency directed the attack
on the city with psionic control.
It seemed a logical theory at the time
and the evidence pointed that way.
The expedition to the island <i>was</i> a
deadly fiasco&mdash;only don't forget that
attack was the direct opposite of what
I wanted to have done. If I had gone
into the cave myself none of the
deaths would have been necessary. I
think it would have been discovered
that the plant creatures were nothing
more than an advanced life form with
unusual psi ability. They simply resonated
strongly to the psionic attack
on the city. I had the idea backwards
thinking they instigated the battle.
We'll never know the truth, though,
because they are destroyed. But their
deaths did prove one thing. It allows
us to find the real culprits, the creatures
who are leading, directing and
inspiring the war against the city."</p>

<p>"<i>Who?</i>" Kerk breathed the question,
rather than spoke it.</p>

<p>"Why <i>you</i> of course," Jason told
him. "Not you alone, but all of your
people in the city. Perhaps you don't
like this war. However you are responsible
for it, and keep it going."</p>

<p>Jason had to force back a smile as
he looked at their dumfounded expressions.
He had to prove his point
quickly, before even his allies began
to think him insane.</p>

<hr />

<p>"Here is how it works. I said Pyrran
life was telepathic&mdash;and I meant
all life. Every single insect, plant and
animal. At one time in this planet's
violent history these psionic mutations
proved to be survival types. They
existed when other species died, and
in the end I'm sure they co-operated
in wiping out the last survivors of the
non-psi strains. Co-operation is the
key word here. Because while they
still competed against each other under
normal conditions, they worked
together against anything that threatened
them as a whole. When a natural
upheaval or a tidal wave threatened
them, they fled from it in harmony.</p>

<div class="figleft" style="width: 165px;"><img src="images/021.png" width="165" height="500" alt="" title="" /></div>

<p>"You can see a milder form of this
same behavior on any planet that is
subject to forest fires. But here, mutual
survival was carried to an extreme
because of the violent conditions. Perhaps
some of the life forms even developed
precognition like the human
quakemen. With this advance warning
the larger beasts fled. The smaller
ones developed seeds, or burrs or
eggs, that could be carried to safety
by the wind or in the animals' fur,
thus insuring racial survival. I know
this is true, because I watched it myself
when we were escaping a quake."</p>

<p>"Admitted&mdash;all your points admitted,"
Brucco shouted. "But what
does it have to do with <i>us</i>? So all the
animals run away together, what does
that have to do with the war?"</p>

<p>"They do more than run away together,"
Jason told him. "They work
together against any natural disaster
that threatens them all. Some day I'm
sure, ecologists will go into raptures
over the complex adjustments that
occur here in the advent of blizzards,
floods, fires and other disasters. There
is only one reaction we really care
about now, though. That's the one
directed towards the city people.
Don't you realize yet&mdash;they treat you
all as another natural disaster!</p>

<p>"We'll never know exactly how it
came about, though there is a clue in
that diary I found, dating from the
first days on this planet. It said that
a forest fire seemed to have driven
new species towards the settlers.
Those weren't new beasts at all&mdash;just
old ones with new attitudes. Can't you
just imagine how those protected,
over-civilized settlers acted when
faced with a forest fire? They panicked
of course. If the settlers were in
the path of the fire, the animals must
have rushed right through their camp.
Their reaction would undoubtedly
have been to shoot the fleeing creatures
down.</p>

<p>"When they did that they classified
themselves as a natural disaster. Disasters
take any form. Bipeds with guns
could easily be included in the category.
The Pyrran animals attacked,
were shot, and the war began. The
survivors kept attacking and informed
all the life forms what the fight was
about. The radioactivity of this planet
must cause plenty of mutations&mdash;and
the favorable, survival mutation
was now one that was deadly to man.
I'll hazard a guess that the psi function
even instigates mutations, some
of the deadlier types are just too one-sided
to have come about naturally in
a brief three hundred years.</p>

<p>"The settlers, of course, fought
back, and kept their status as a natural
disaster intact. Through the centuries
they improved their killing methods,
not that it did the slightest good, as
you know. You city people, their descendants,
are heirs to this heritage of
hatred. You fight and are slowly being
defeated. How can you possibly win
against the biologic reserves of a planet
that can recreate itself each time to
meet any new attack?"</p>

<hr />

<p>Silence followed Jason's words.
Kerk and Meta stood white-faced as
the impact of the disclosure sunk in.
Brucco mumbled and checked points
off on his fingers, searching for weak
spots in the chain of reason. The
fourth city Pyrran, Skop, ignored all
these foolish words that he couldn't
understand&mdash;or want to understand&mdash;and
would have killed Jason in an instant
if there had been the slightest
chance of success.</p>

<p>It was Rhes who broke the silence.
His quick mind had taken in the
factors and sorted them out. "There's
one thing wrong," he said. "What
about us? We live on the surface of
Pyrrus without perimeters or guns.
Why aren't we attacked as well?
We're human, descended from the
same people as the junkmen."</p>

<p>"You're not attacked," Jason told
him, "because you don't identify yourself
as a natural disaster. Animals can
live on the slopes of a dormant volcano,
fighting and dying in natural
competition. But they'll flee together
when the volcano erupts. That eruption
is what makes the mountain a
natural disaster. In the case of human
beings, it is their thoughts that identify
them as life form or disaster.
Mountain or volcano. In the city
everyone radiates suspicion and death.
They enjoy killing, thinking about
killing, and planning for killing. This
is natural selection, too, you realize.
These are the survival traits that work
best in the city. Outside the city men
think differently. If they are threatened
individually, they fight, as will any
other creature. Under more general
survival threats they co-operate completely
with the rules for universal
survival that the city people break."</p>

<p>"How did it begin&mdash;this separation,
I mean, between the two
groups?" Rhes asked.</p>

<p>"We'll probably never know," Jason
said. "I think your people must
have originally been farmers, or
psionic sensitives who were not with
the others during some natural disaster.
They would, of course, act correctly
by Pyrran standards, and survive.
This would cause a difference of
opinion with the city people who saw
killing as the answer. It's obvious,
whatever the reason, that two separate
communities were established early,
and soon separated except for the limited
amount of barter that benefited
both."</p>

<p>"I still can't believe it," Kerk mumbled.
"It makes a terrible kind of
truth, every step of the way, but I still
find it hard to accept. There <i>must</i> be
another explanation."</p>

<p>Jason shook his head slowly.
"None. This is the only one that
works. We've eliminated the other
ones, remember? I can't blame you
for finding it hard to believe, since
it is in direct opposition to everything
you've understood to be true in the
past. It's like altering a natural law.
As if I gave you proof that gravity
didn't really exist, that it was a force
altogether different from the immutable
one we know, one you could get
around when you understood how.
You'd want more proof than words.
Probably want to see someone walking
on air."</p>

<p>"Which isn't such a bad idea at
that," he added, turning to Naxa.
"Do you hear any animals around the
ship now? Not the ones you're used
to, but the mutated, violent kind that
live only to attack the city."</p>

<p>"Place's crawling with 'em," Naxa
said, "just lookin' for somethin'
t'kill."</p>

<p>"Could you capture one?" Jason
asked. "Without getting yourself
killed, I mean."</p>

<p>Naxa snorted contempt as he
turned to leave. "Beast's not born yet,
that'll hurt me."</p>

<p>They stood quietly, each one wrapped
tightly around by his own
thoughts, while they waited for Naxa
to return. Jason had nothing more to
say. He would do one more thing to
try and convince them of the facts,
after that it would be up to each of
them to reach a conclusion.</p>

<hr />

<p>The talker returned quickly with a
stingwing, tied by one leg to a length
of leather. It flapped and shrieked as
he carried it in.</p>

<p>"In the middle of the room, away
from everybody," Jason told him.
"Can you get that beast to sit on
something and not flap around?"</p>

<p>"My hand good enough?" he asked,
flipping the creature up so it clung to
the back of his gauntlet. "That's how
I caught it."</p>

<p>"Does anyone doubt that this is a
real stingwing?" Jason asked. "I want
to make sure you all believe there is
no trickery here."</p>

<p>"The thing is real," Brucco said.
"I can smell the poison in the wing-claws
from here." He pointed to the
dark marks on the leather where the
liquid had dripped. "If that eats
through the gloves, he's a dead man."</p>

<p>"Then we agree it's real," Jason
said. "Real and deadly, and the only
test of the theory will be if you people
from the city can approach it like
Naxa here."</p>

<p>They drew back automatically when
he said it. Because they knew that
stingwing was synonymous with
death. Past, present and future. You
don't change a natural law. Meta
spoke for all of them.</p>

<p>"We ... can't. This man lives in
the jungle, like an animal himself.
Somehow he's learned to get near
them. But you can't expect us to."</p>

<p>Jason spoke quickly, before the
talker could react to the insult. "Of
course I expect you to. That's the
whole idea. If you don't hate the beast
and expect it to attack you&mdash;why it
won't. Think of it as a creature from
a different planet, something harmless."</p>

<p>"I can't," she said. "It's a <i>stingwing</i>!"</p>

<p>As they talked Brucco stepped forward,
his eyes fixed steadily on the
creature perched on the glove. Jason
signaled the bowmen to hold their
fire. Brucco stopped at a safe distance
and kept looking steadily at the stingwing.
It rustled its leathery wings uneasily
and hissed. A drop of poison
formed at the tip of each great poison
claw on its wings. The control room
was filled with a deadly silence.</p>

<p>Slowly he raised his hand. Carefully
putting it out, over the animal.
The hand dropped a little, rubbed the
stingwing's head once, then fell back
to his side. The animal did nothing
except stir slightly under the touch.</p>

<p>There was a concerted sigh, as those
who had been unknowingly holding
their breath breathed again.</p>

<p>"How did you do it?" Meta asked
in a hushed voice.</p>

<p>"Hm-m-m, what?" Brucco said,
apparently snapping out of a daze.
"Oh, touching the thing. Simple,
really. I just pretended it was one of
the training aids I use, a realistic and
harmless duplicate. I kept my mind
on that single thought and it worked."
He looked down at his hand, then
back to the stingwing. His voice
quieter now, as if he spoke from a
distance. "It's not a training aid you
know. It's real. Deadly. The off-worlder
is right. He's right about
everything he said."</p>

<p>With Brucco's success as an example,
Kerk came close to the animal.
He walked stiffly, as if on the way to
his execution, and runnels of sweat
poured down his rigid face. But he
believed and kept his thoughts directed
away from the stingwing and he
could touch it unharmed.</p>

<p>Meta tried but couldn't fight down
the horror it raised when she came
close. "I am trying," she said, "and I
do believe you now&mdash;but I just can't
do it."</p>

<p>Skop screamed when they all looked
at him, shouted it was all a trick,
and had to be clubbed unconscious
when he attacked the bowmen.</p>

<p>Understanding had come to Pyrrus.</p>

<hr class="tb" />
<h2>XXVIII.</h2>

<p>"What do we do now?" Meta
asked. Her voice was troubled, questioning.
She voiced the thoughts of
all the Pyrrans in the room, and the
thousands who watched in their
screens.</p>

<p>"What will we do?" They turned
to Jason, waiting for an answer. For
the moment their differences were
forgotten. The people from the city
were staring expectantly at him, as
were the crossbowmen with half-lowered
weapons. This stranger had
confused and changed the old world
they had known, and presented them
with a newer and stranger one, with
alien problems.</p>

<p>"Hold on," he said, raising his
hand. "I'm no doctor of social ills.
I'm not going to try and cure this
planet full of muscle-bound sharpshooters.
I've just squeezed through
up to now, and by the law of averages
I should be ten times dead."</p>

<p>"Even if all you say is true, Jason,"
Meta said, "you are still the only person
who can help us. What will the
future be like?"</p>

<p>Suddenly weary, Jason slumped
into the pilot's chair. He glanced
around at the circle of people. They
seemed sincere. None of them even
appeared to have noticed that he no
longer had his hand on the pump
switch. For the moment at least, the
war between city and farm was forgotten.</p>

<p>"I'll give you my conclusions,"
Jason said, twisting in the chair, trying
to find a comfortable position for
his aching bones. "I've been doing a
lot of thinking the last day or two,
searching for the answer. The very
first thing I realized, was that the
perfect and logical solution wouldn't
do at all. I'm afraid the old ideal of
the lion lying down with the lamb
doesn't work out in practice. About
all it does is make a fast lunch for
the lion. Ideally, now that you all
know the real causes of your trouble,
you should tear down the perimeter
and have the city and forest people
mingle in brotherly love. Makes
just as pretty a picture as the one of
lion and lamb. And would undoubtedly
have the same result. Someone
would remember how really filthy the
grubbers are, or how stupid junkmen
can be, and there would be a fresh
corpse cooling. The fight would
spread and the victors would be eaten
by the wildlife that swarmed over the
undefended perimeter. No, the answer
isn't that easy."</p>

<p>As the Pyrrans listened to him they
realized where they were, and glanced
around uneasily. The guards raised
their crossbows again, and the prisoners
stepped back to the wall and
looked surly.</p>

<p>"See what I mean?" Jason asked.
"Didn't take long did it?" They all
looked a little sheepish at their unthinking
reactions.</p>

<p>"If we're going to find a decent
plan for the future, we'll have to take
inertia into consideration. Mental inertia
for one. Just because you know
a thing is true in theory, doesn't make
it true in fact. The barbaric religions
of primitive worlds hold not a germ
of scientific fact, though they claim to
explain all. Yet if one of these savages
has all the logical ground for
his beliefs taken away&mdash;he doesn't
stop believing. He then calls his mistaken
beliefs 'faith' because he knows
they are right. And he knows they are
right because he has faith. This is an
unbreakable circle of false logic that
can't be touched. In reality, it is plain
mental inertia. A case of thinking
'what always was' will also 'always
be.' And not wanting to blast the
thinking patterns out of the old
rut.</p>

<p>"Mental inertia alone is not going
to cause trouble&mdash;there is cultural inertia,
too. Some of you in this room
believe my conclusions and would like
to change. But will all your people
change? The unthinking ones, the
habit-ridden, reflex-formed people
who <i>know</i> what is now, will always
be. They'll act like a drag on whatever
plans you make, whatever attempts
you undertake to progress
with the new knowledge you have."</p>

<p>"Then it's useless&mdash;there's no hope
for our world?" Rhes asked.</p>

<hr />

<p>"I didn't say that," Jason answered.
"I merely mean that your troubles
won't end by throwing some kind of
mental switch. I see three courses
open for the future, and the chances
are that all three will be going on at
the same time.</p>

<p>"First&mdash;and best&mdash;will be the rejoining
of city and farm Pyrrans into
the single human group they came
from. Each is incomplete now, and
has something the other one needs. In
the city here you have science and
contact with the rest of the galaxy.
You also have a deadly war. Out there
in the jungle, your first cousins live
at peace with the world, but lack
medicine and the other benefits of
scientific knowledge, as well as any
kind of cultural contact with the rest
of mankind. You'll both have to join
together and benefit from the exchange.
At the same time you'll have
to forget the superstitious hatred you
have of each other. This will only be
done outside of the city, away from
the war. Every one of you who is
capable should go out voluntarily,
bringing some fraction of the knowledge
that needs sharing. You won't be
harmed if you go in good faith. And
you will learn how to live <i>with</i> this
planet, rather than against it. Eventually
you'll have civilized communities
that won't be either 'grubber' or
'junkman.' They'll be Pyrran."</p>

<p>"But what about our city here?"
Kerk asked.</p>

<p>"It'll stay right here&mdash;and probably
won't change in the slightest. In the
beginning you'll need your perimeter
and defenses to stay alive, while the
people are leaving. And after that it
will keep going because there are
going to be any number of people
here who you won't convince. They'll
stay and fight and eventually die. Perhaps
you will be able to do a better
job in educating their children. What
the eventual end of the city will be,
I have no idea."</p>

<p>They were silent as they thought
about the future. On the floor Skop
groaned but did not move. "Those
are two ways," Meta said. "What is
the third?"</p>

<p>"The third possibility is my own
pet scheme," Jason smiled. "And I
hope I can find enough people to go
along with me. I'm going to take my
money and spend it all on outfitting
the best and most modern spacer, with
every weapon and piece of scientific
equipment I can get my hands on.
Then I'm going to ask for Pyrran
volunteers to go with me."</p>

<p>"What in the world for?" Meta
frowned.</p>

<p>"Not for charity, I expect to make
my investment back, and more. You
see, after these past few months, I
can't possibly return to my old occupation.
Not only do I have enough
money now to make it a waste of
time, but I think it would be an unending
bore. One thing about Pyrrus&mdash;if
you live&mdash;is that it spoils you for
the quieter places. So I'd like to take
this ship that I mentioned and go
into the business of opening up new
worlds. There are thousands of planets
where men would like to settle, only
getting a foothold on them is too
rough or rugged for the usual settlers.
Can you imagine a planet a Pyrran
couldn't lick after the training you've
had here? And enjoy doing it?</p>

<p>"There would be more than pleasure
involved, though. In the city your
lives have been geared for continual
deadly warfare. Now you're faced
with the choice of a fairly peaceful
future, or staying in the city to fight
an unnecessary and foolish war. I
offer the third alternative of the occupation
you know best, that would
let you accomplish something constructive
at the same time.</p>

<p>"Those are the choices. Whatever
you decide is up to each of you personally."</p>

<hr />

<p>Before anyone could answer, livid
pain circled Jason's throat. Skop had
regained consciousness and surged up
from the floor. He pulled Jason from
the chair with a single motion, holding
him by the neck, throttling him.</p>

<p>"Kerk! Meta!" Skop shouted
hoarsely. "Grab guns! Open the locks&mdash;our
people'll be here, kill the grubbers
and their lies!"</p>

<p>Jason tore at the fingers that were
choking the life out of him, but it was
like pulling at bent steel bars. He
couldn't talk and the blood hammered
in his ears.</p>

<p>Meta hurtled forward like an uncoiled
spring and the crossbows
twanged. One bolt caught her in the
leg, the other transfixed her upper
arm. But she had been shot as she
jumped and her inertia carried her
across the room, to her fellow Pyrran
and the dying off-worlder.</p>

<p>She raised her good arm and chopped
down with the edge of her hand.</p>

<p>It caught Skop a hard blow on the
biceps and his arm jumped spasmodically,
his hand leaping from Jason's
throat.</p>

<p>"What are you doing?" he shouted
in strange terror to the wounded girl
who fell against him. He pushed her
away, still clutching Jason with his
other hand. She didn't answer. Instead
she chopped again, hard and true, the
edge of her hand catching Skop across
the windpipe, crushing it. He dropped
Jason and fell to the floor, retching
and gasping.</p>

<p>Jason watched the end through a
haze, barely conscious.</p>

<p>Skop struggled to his feet, turned
pain-filled eyes to his friends.</p>

<p>"You're wrong," Kerk said. "Don't
do it."</p>

<p>The sound the wounded man made
was more animal than human. When
he dived towards the guns on the far
side of the room the crossbows
twanged like harps of death.</p>

<p>When Brucco went over to help
Meta no one interfered. Jason gasped
air back into his lungs, breathing in
life. The watching glass eye of the
viewer carried the scene to everyone
in the city.</p>

<p>"Thanks, Meta ... for understanding
... as well as helping." Jason
had to force the words out.</p>

<p>"Skop was wrong and you were
right, Jason," she said. Her voice
broke for a second as Brucco snapped
off the feathered end of the steel bolt
with his fingers, and pulled the shaft
out of her arm. "I can't stay in the
city, only people who feel as Skop
did will be able to do that. And I'm
afraid I can't go into the forest&mdash;you
saw what luck I had with the stingwing.
If it's all right I'd like to come
with you. I'd like to very much."</p>

<p>It hurt when he talked so Jason
could only smile, but she knew what
he meant.</p>

<p>Kerk looked down in unhappiness
at the body of the dead man. "He was
wrong&mdash;but I know how he felt. I
can't leave the city, not yet. Someone
will have to keep things in hand while
the changes are taking place. Your
ship is a good idea, Jason, you'll have
no shortage of volunteers. Though I
doubt if you'll get Brucco to go with
you."</p>

<p>"Of course not," Brucco snapped,
not looking up from the compression
bandage he was tying. "There's
enough to do right here on Pyrrus.
The animal life, quite a study to be
made, probably have every ecologist
in the galaxy visiting here."</p>

<p>Kerk walked slowly to the screen
overlooking the city. No one attempted
to stop him. He looked out at the
buildings, the smoke still curling up
from the perimeter, and the limitless
sweep of green jungle beyond.</p>

<p>"You've changed it all, Jason," he
said. "We can't see it now, but Pyrrus
will never be the way it was before
you came. For better or worse."</p>

<p>"Better," Jason croaked, and rubbed
his aching throat. "Now get together
and end this war so people
will really believe it."</p>

<p>Rhes turned and after an instant's
hesitation, extended his hand to Kerk.
The gray-haired Pyrran felt the same
repugnance himself about touching a
grubber.</p>

<p>They shook hands then because
they were both strong men.</p>

<div class="hd1"><p class="center"><b>THE END</b></p></div>

<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/022-2.jpg"><img src="images/022-1.jpg" width="144" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div>

<p><b><big>Transcriber's Note:</big></b></p>

<p>This etext was produced from <i>Astounding Science Fiction</i> January, February and March 1960.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
typographical errors have been corrected without note.</p></div>








<pre>





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